Future
by asouldreams
Summary: Adama & Roslin have to come to terms with the events that transpired on and while leaving New Caprica, begin to rebuild the weary fleet, while maintaining their professionalism as the nature of their relationship changes. KaraLeeCottleTigh throughout
1. Chapter 1

**Future**

"Sir, Pegasus has jumped and Raptor 21 has docked."

"Recall the Vipers, and initiate jump sequence."

Helo's voice echoed across the CIC. "Three, two, one."

The battered Battlestar winked out of existence, forever leaving the haven that became their hell - New Caprica. "Jump complete, we have dradis contact, Colonial transponders. All accounted for."

Adama nodded his head, "Good work people. Coordinate with the Pegasus and have the CAG set up a CAP around the fleet." He stepped through the CIC door and mentally felt the weight from the past 3 weeks begin to wane. Planning the attack on the Cylon basestars, mounting a rescue mission and evacuation party, and now they were going to have to re-establish the civilian government among the stars and in close quarters. He stepped onto the hanger deck as Colonial Tigh was stepping off the Raptor. Tigh immediately headed toward Adama.

"We are going to have to…" Adama held up his hand, halting Tigh's gusto as a tired smile played over his face. "We will put out a message to the fleet for those persons wishing to re-enlist in the morning. Get some rest Saul; you are going to be busy assigning personnel for the next few days. Did Ms. Roslin accompany you or is she on another envoy?"

"Roslin was aboard the Raptor."

Adama saw a flash of red hair moving across the hanger deck. "In the morning, please have the Quorum convene at 0900 in the ward room."

"Sir?"

Adama returned his full attention to Tigh, "Roslin and I are meeting this evening to put the systems back in place for the Colonial Government."

"Yes, Sir."

Bill clasped his friend's shoulder and smiled, "It's good to have you back Saul."

Tigh felt his lips curl into a rare smile, "Good to be back, Sir."  
Adama nodded and headed toward Roslin, knowing their night was only beginning.

Roslin stepped into Adama's quarters and as he closed the hatch behind them, she felt the pressure from the past three weeks begin to release. Tears were filling her eyes faster than she could blink them back.

"Laura?" He stepped toward her.

She shook her head, "Please, just give me a moment." She took a few deep, calming breaths as she sat on his couch. "Long couple weeks." Her voice still had a slight quiver, and her face was drawn, punctuated by the dark circles resting under her eyes.

Adama nodded, disappeared for a few moments and returned with two glasses and a molten gold bottle. He paused at the desk, only long enough to dwindle the contents of the bottle into their respective glasses. Handing her a glass, he sat down on the couch next to her.

Adama paused for a moment as he gazed at Roslin. Less than one week ago, they were living on the verge of extinction. Now, 41,537 souls were crammed into their space faring fleet heading toward Astral Body….the first stop to Earth.

"Perseverance." He felt himself say as he wondered what he would have done had she died last week.

"Luck." She felt herself respond thanking the Gods that he lived through last week's gauntlet. Their toast was simple, yet potent. The moment hung for a brief second, the creamy gold liquid inches from their lips, _Gods they were lucky to be alive_. With that thought, Laura downed the glass, feeling the warm liquid spreading like fire throughout her body, and easing another layer of knots out of her system. "Molten Ambrosia?" She asked, eyeing him through half closed eyes.

"Close cousin. Ambrosia Spice."

"Hmm." She savored the flavor a moment longer before sitting up and meeting his blue eyes, "Private stash?"

His lips curled into a rare smile, "There are a few perks to being Admiral."

A chuckled slipped across her lips, "Just a few?"

The smile began slipping off of Adama's face as his thoughts began to return to their present predicament, the men and women who they lost in the last week alone.  
Laura watched his face begin to slide back behind his professional demeanor, "Bill?"

Bill pulled his eyes back up to meet Roslin's, "You were right, it has been a long couple of weeks." He picked the Ambrosia Spice up, "One more?"

Laura's head began telling her immediately that she shouldn't. She was tired, still had to set up quarters, and had to determine Colonial necessities with Adama prior to the Quorum meeting in the morning. "Why not." She felt herself answer. He refilled her glass and returned the bottle prior to sitting next to her on the couch.

"How many Quorum members survived?" Bill absently asked as his hands deftly twirled the small glass, keeping the precious liquid from spilling.

"In a few weeks, I'll be saying too many." Her lighthearted answer was lost as soon as it was spoken, "Eight." _Gods, they had lost too many people._ She felt his warm hand slowly lifting her chin until their eyes were level.

"Let's focus on who we have left." His voice was soft, bordering on gravelly. He looked into her face, an angel's face. Without thinking his thumb gently brushed along her cheek, her eyes registering surprise and then…something else. From the depths of his subconscious, he knew what the _'something else'_ was and he definitely wanted to see more of it. However, he found the willpower to pull his hand away, silently wondering where this '_something else'_ came from and why he could still feel her soft skin against his hand. Knowing it would be better to let it drop, he stood up, downed his drink and walked over to his desk.

Laura's skin was still tingling from the trail his thumb had blazed across her skin, _maybe it's the Ambrosia? _ _Rationalism_, she thought wryly_, even at the end of the world_. "Perhaps we should talk in the morning." She stated clearing her throat before standing up. She finished her Ambrosia as she stepped next to the desk, next to him.

He smiled softly, "That might be a wise course of action." He turned slightly to face her, "0600?"

Without thinking, for if she were thinking she never would have let herself, she reached up and began to run her hand over his arm. He felt a shudder travel through him, and as her hand began to head back up his arm, his other hand lightly caught it.

"0600?" He reiterated, trying to swallow the large lump down his throat. Bill could feel his body wanting him to move just a little closer; of course it was so he could hear her over his pounding heart when she spoke. _Rationalism_, he almost smiled at the thought, but his mind began wondering. _My hands running through her silken hair_…

Laura gently pulled her hand back, wanting nothing more than to let it wonder across his body. _My hands running down his broad chest_…

Blue and grey eyes pleading with one another, wanting to plunge across the invisible line between Admiral and soon to be President and the man and woman who lived those lives. Personal versus Professional. Duty versus Desire.

"Admiral," Laura was desperately trying to find the line, "We need to…"

His lips brushed against hers, fleeting and yet full of promise. He stepped back, "Laura," his husky voice causing her hair to stand on end, "I believe we will need to reconvene in the morning."

Roslin closed her eyes, hoping to find a pillar of strength. When she opened them, she was staring into crystal blue eyes hazed with desire. _So much for strength_. "0600?" She asked trying to steady her voice.

He nodded, "Coffee will be waiting."

She took another step back, hoping the physical space would begin to diminish the burning desire that was coursing through her. It didn't. "Till morning."

Bill didn't take his eyes off of her, not that he could if he wanted to. Gods was she beautiful. He could have sworn he heard her mumble something about a cold shower and he doubted she would sleep much until their meeting in the morning either. As the hatch closed, he breathed aloud, "You aren't the only one who needs a cold shower."

...tbc...

Hope you are enjoying this small start as the journey is just beginning!


	2. Priorities

Chapter 2 Priorities

0500

_Might as well go ahead and get up_, she thought mildly irritated. _What was she thinking? She wasn't, that's what the problem was. _Throwing the covers back, she sat up and crystal blue eyes were boring through her. Startled and shocked she practically jumped back to find her temporary quarters quite empty. _Laura, get a grip. You are going to be reinstated as the President by the end of the week, and he is the Admiral of the Fleet. It won't work. It can't work. _She scooped up her linens and clothes for the day and went into the head. _It's a political firestorm, and one the Fleet can't afford right now. _Her internal battle continued through her morning routine, succinctly sighting all the reasons why she and Bill couldn't pursue a personal relationship. However, the real problem wasn't her lack of thinking up reasons why she and Bill shouldn't pursue a relationship, each of the reasons were valid, but they didn't negate _her_ feelings. Not the soon to be President of the Colonies, because she didn't have feelings and couldn't afford to, but Laura Roslin's feelings. Sighing, she picked up her glasses and her notes she scribbled down earlier while she wasn't sleeping and headed to the man's cabin that had occupied her thoughts since she last saw him.

0555

Adama picked up his glasses, and through tired eyes glanced at the clock as he poured himself another cup of coffee. The object of two cold showers and not an ounce of sleep would be arriving within the next couple of minutes. The mere thought of Roslin brought his inner argument alive again. _We can't. She will be my superior officer, there is such a thing called military protocol. Not to mention, the political ramifications for Roslin. _Bill shook his head, to clear the fogginess and his thoughts. He had been arguing with himself all night, his head versus his heart. Logically he knew it would be a nightmare from every possible standpoint, except one – his heart. Thankfully, there was knock on his hatch door, and Adama pulled his mind to the present and the problem at hand. His personal feelings were going to have to wait. Straightening, he pulled his jacket off his chair and slipped into it as he spoke, "Come in." His hands efficiently were finishing buttoning his collar when his heart skipped a beat as she stepped into his quarters.

Laura felt her pulse quicken as she opened the hatch. Roslin paused, "Do you need a few more minutes?" She asked, not letting her hand leave the hatch handle.

"No." He answered, "Coffee?" Adama appraised his companion. _Gods, she looks tired._

"Yes, please." Roslin noticed the extra lines on his face, _He probably didn't sleep last night, either._

"Cream…"

"Black will be fine." She took the offered coffee cup as they sat down at the desk. Laura smiled as she sipped the coffee, "Thank you." With that simple declaration, she felt herself switch into the professional mode, "I sketched out a few improvement ideas for long term housing last night."

Adama watched the woman before him place her mask of professionalism on – he pulled his notes out, "I gave that some consideration last night, too." He paused momentarily, "However, my first priority is to re-establish our military personnel. We have given a 'skeleton' crew new meaning. Until we have an increase in personnel, we will not be able to adequately defend the Fleet from a Cylon attack."

"What other priorities did you have time to sketch out?" She asked curiously.

The Admiral picked up his coffee, _cat and mouse,_ he mused. "Quite a number. Yourself?"

"I had ample time to make some notes."

Adama's eyebrow rose ever so slightly, _I'm sure you did_. "Top three priorities."

"Head count, evaluate resources within the Fleet, and then re-establishing the Quorum. Yours?"

"Rebuild the military, resource evaluation and conducting a visual ID on every passenger in the Fleet ensuring no Cylon hitchhikers."

Roslin pulled off her glasses, "I agree with your first priority, we need to have military personnel to safe guard the Fleet. How long do you estimate before you will begin to fill key positions?"

Adama shook his head, "Unknown. I would like to place an announcement on the wireless in regards to those people wishing to re-enlist. I will have a clearer picture within 24 hours."

"Any type of incentive…"

"I don't think that is necessary at this time."

Roslin nodded, "At present, how long is our early warning status?"

"We have 2 Vipers on patrol, giving the Fleet a 80 second window. I am having the Pegasus and Galactica combine personnel, enabling one Battlestar to protect the Fleet."

Roslin didn't want to ask, and thankfully the Admiral didn't make her. "The Pegasus will only have enough crew to operate the Battlestar."

_Galactica, _she thought, _of course. He trusted his son, but he would want to make sure the Fleet was secure himself._

"Have you spoken with Commander Adama?" She asked pulling her glasses back on.

"I have a meeting scheduled with him at 0830." He scribbled a note down as he spoke, "I have a list of resources stored on the Fleet prior to evacuation." He rifled through his desk, pulling out a yellow piece of paper. He distractedly handed her the information as he finished making his note.

Laura looked at the information, _not good. _"Bill, did you see these numbers?"

"Yes," His blue eyes met her grey ones, "I am hoping those numbers are inaccurate and when we left New Caprica we brought on board additional supplies."

"After the Quorum meeting, I will contact the captains of the civilian fleet and have them assess their resources."

"I don't think it would be a bad idea to have them do a head count and verify passengers too."

"Can you send the captains updated pictures of who we know are Cylon agents?"

Adama poured himself some more coffee and then tilted his head to her cup. She nodded. "I'll have Commander Adama prepare the information and have it disseminated following the Quorum meeting."

Their meeting continued interrupted only when breakfast arrived, each one taking turns to state their next three priorities, pros and cons of each and then squeezing those priorities into their slowly forming plan. It was simple, health and safety concerns were emergency priority; everything past that was slated on a grading scale. However as the morning wore on, Adama and Roslin's middle ground was becoming stretched.

"I do not see how temporarily allowing civilians on Pegasus and Galactica will compromise the Fleet." Roslin stated exasperated.

"We can barely ensure the safety of the Fleet, and you want me to permit civilians to have free access on either Battlestar."

"That is not what I said."

The Admiral shook his head, "No, you want me to put my personnels' lives at risk by enabling untrained personnel to roam the ship. How will a civilian react if we are attacked by the Cylons'? Or boarded by them? The men and women who serve on the Colonial Fleet know that they may have to die, is that something a civilian is willing to do?"

"I don't know," She answered hotly, "But right now I do know that we do not have adequate space for the civilian population."

They stared at each other, they were both right and they knew it. Thankfully, a knock from the hatch and Commander Adama stepped through and stopped. His father and Roslin were standing across the desk from each other, in an obvious conflict of opinion.

"Come in Commander." Adama stated never taking his eyes off of Roslin.

"Are you sure, do you need another minute?" Lee knew trouble when he saw it, and the look on their respective faces spoke volumes.

"No Commander," Roslin broke the eye contact as she turned to Lee. "I believe we need a break."

Lee looked at Roslin and his father, they both looked exhausted. He wondered how much of their angst was genuine or due to sleep deprivation. Mentally sighing, he turned to the Admiral. "Sir, Colonial Tigh asked that you were notified that the Quorum delegates are beginning to arrive."

Adama nodded as Roslin pulled her glasses off, "Ward Room?" She surmised.

Tired blue eyes met grey ones, "Yes."

"I will keep them occupied for a few minutes." She glanced at the desk, "Do you mind if I leave my notes here Admiral?"

"That will be fine Madame President. I'll be in the Ward Room momentarily."

"Thank you." She stated and left the Admiral and his son.

Lee closed the door behind Roslin, "Sir, you wanted to see me?"

Adama blinked a few times, _he was getting to old not to sleep_. Squinting his eyes and forcing the fatigue at bay, he pulled out his earlier notes. "Have a seat Commander." The Admiral sat, followed by the Commander. "I would like you to send all but 35 of your personnel to the Galactica."

"But Sir…"

"Lee, we can't defend the Fleet with two skeleton crews, we can however defend them with one semi-operational Battlestar. As personnel begin to re-enlist or enlist, we will begin to staff Pegasus."

"Sir…I…" Lee collected his scattered thoughts, stating the obvious to his father, "But, that will only leave enough personnel to operate CIC and the engine room. In essence, operate the controls, the FTL, and the engines."

The Admiral nodded, "Precisely."

"Dad, I don't think this is a good idea."

Adama pulled off his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Nor do I." He admitted before continuing on, "However, we cannot protect the Fleet in our current status. Lee, this is short term; hopefully two to three days at best."

Lee sighed, knowing his father had made up his mind and he was going to have make the best of it. "I hope so. Is that all?"

"Verify all commodity resources on the Pegasus by 1800 hours."

"How do the numbers look?"

"The numbers we have are pre-evacuation."

"Not good." Lee guessed.

His father did answer, "Also, we are having the civilian captains conduct a head count, and to visually see each person."

Lee nodded, "Good strategy, determine our numbers and ensure no known Cylons are aboard."

"Send a portfolio of known Cylon agents to each captain."

"Yes, Sir. Anything else?"

The Admiral's eyes narrowed even further, his voice hard and thin. "One last thing, what ship is Baltar on?"


	3. So Say We All

**Chapter 3 So Say We All**

Two hours had gone by and Adama and Roslin were just over half way through their agenda. Teryan Napir, Baltar's replacement as the Caprican delegate, pounced on every agenda item that did not put the civilian fleet first, demanding a lengthy explanation. His primary concern was filling the Quorum, and why wasn't that the highest priority? Or the lack of sleeping arrangements? Rations? Roslin as the quasi-President?

Half an hour ago, even Zarek began defending their agenda and the need of bolstering their meager military to ensure the Fleet's safety.

"Tom, why are you worrying about military personnel when we don't even have beds to sleep on?" Teryan accused.

Zarek rubbed his temple, "Teryan, what difference will a bed make if we are all dead?"

Back and forth; back and forth and then to Adama's relief Tigh quietly slipped in and handed him a note. Riot started on the Gamgee The Admiral nodded to Tigh, and then handed the note to Roslin. "Ladies and Gentlemen you'll have to excuse us. There is a situation on the Gamgee."

"How many souls aboard?" Standing, Roslin asked as she pulled her glasses off, worry etched around the corners of her eyes.

"Colonel what is the sit rep?" The Admiral asked as they quickly made their way through the Galactica.

"Details are sketchy. Captain stated there are 1145 souls aboard and not enough space."

"What is the maximum passenger load for the Gamgee?"

"980, Sir."

"Admiral, are you sending troops over?" She asked as they entered the CIC.

"Presently, we don't have enough personnel to operate a Battlestar and send a strike force off ship." Helo handed Adama a note, Contact Adama regarding transfers. "Get me Pegasus actual." He looked at Roslin, "I'll re-route 20 of our incoming personnel from Pegasus."

"Will that be enough?" She asked.

"Sir, we have Pegasus actual."

"It will have to be, unless we endanger the Fleet." Adama responded as he jerked the phone off the receiver, "Commander."

"Admiral, I am going to hold transferring personnel until this evening."

The Admiral felt his jaw involuntarily clench, "The reason."

The other line was momentarily quiet, "Sir, as I stated earlier, I don't believe it will be necessary and it is creating a lot of unnecessary leg work for our staff."

"41,000 souls would disagree. Begin the transfers immediately, Commander. That is an order. Also, pull a marine strike force or the best semblance of one from the transfer list and have them board the Gamgee to help quell a riot."

"Sir…"

"You have your orders Commander." Adama hung the receiver up, eyes spinning onto Tigh. "Contact the Gamgee."

Tigh broke his eye contact from Roslin as the Admiral had hung up the phone, their eyes passing the same message to the other… _not an auspicious beginning…his son not wanting to follow orders_. Tigh braved the question, "Admiral, how long until Pegasus personnel begin to arrive?"

"Sir, Captain Swill is on the line." Lieutenant Brosso called out.

"Expect them immediately." He turned to the Lieutenant, "Put him through."

Roslin's eyes followed Adama as he reached for the phone and she was filled with a mixture of respect and admiration. _He reacts like clockwork in a crisis; he rolls the 'hard six' and keeps moving on. _ At that moment, he pointed to the other phone, "Dr. Roslin, I believe you may want to hear this."

Swill's shrilling voice cut across the phone, "Admiral, we are overcrowded with very little food and water."

"Jerry," Roslin's voice went out over the line, "the Admiral is sending over a handful of Marines to help quell the riot, but we need everyone to hold on for two to three day until we can arrange proper sleeping arrangements for everyone."

"Ms. Roslin, I…" The captain stuttered for a moment, obviously seeking his resolve. He had expected to deal with the Admiral, not Roslin too. He sucked down another breath as he re-formulated his strategy, "That may be easy for you to say, but you are on board the Galactica with food, water, and some place to sleep."

Roslin and Adama locked eyes across the tactical station. Adama quietly took a deep breath, Roslin raised her eyebrows as she mouthed Diplomacy "Captain Swill," Adama's voice had turned deadly as it quietly echoed across the CIC and the line. "Ms. Roslin and I are assessing the Fleet's status as we speak, and we will begin to re-deploy your passengers to more suitable accommodations within the next 48 hours."

"Admiral, I appreciate that, but that is 2 days." He rebuked in a heartbeat.

Roslin held up her hand, stopping Adama's curt remark, "Jerry, the Admiral and I are aware of the circumstances and the time lapse. However, we need you to convey to your passengers, that we are working with limited resources and personnel. The Admiral's men have been on rotation for the past 48 hours ensuring our evacuation and safety. They are tired too."

There was a long pause as he considered her words before Swill's voice came back across, "Admiral, when will your men arrive?"

Adama glanced at the clock over the FTL controls, "They will arrive in 30 minutes. They are being deployed from the Pegasus."

"I will contact you when things quiet down, Admiral, Ms. Roslin." The receiver went dead.

Roslin and Adama placed their receivers in their holder, "Thank you for your assistance Admiral."

"Don't thank me yet." He turned to the Colonel, "Update me in sixty minutes. Also, contact the rest of the civilian captains and ask if they can expedite their resource information."

"Yes, Sir." Saul turned to Brosso, "Contact the Rising Star."

Adama and Roslin departed CIC, heading back to the Ward Room. Involuntarily, he pulled off his glasses as their gait fell in step, "We don't know if this will resolve the Gamgee's problem, and if we have any other developments within the Fleet…" His voice trailed off, not wanting to give the universe any ideas.

Laura slipped her arm around his in a comforting gesture, "Then let us pray that there won't be any."

Bill glanced sideways at Laura, _Thank the gods she is here. _He curled his arm, and placed his other hand on top of hers. "So say we all."

They walked in silence until they were standing outside of the Ward Room, "Maybe they finished the agenda without us." Roslin quipped trying to keep the corners of her lips from curling up into a smile, as she gently pulled her hand from the crook of his arm.

"And the Cylons are no longer pursuing the Fleet." Bill sarcastically replied, silently wishing he were facing down a Cylon raider than being bored to tears by the Quorum.

"So say we all." She whispered momentarily before entering the Ward Room.

Adama couldn't help the small smile that skirted across his face from her parting comment. Everyone took their seats, and Adama stole a look at Roslin – her face masked in professionalism, but her eyes still held a twinkle of their shared laughter.

Roslin informed the Quorum about the pending situation on the Gamgee, before turning her attention back to the agenda. She felt herself cringe at how many items remained.

"Next on the agenda," Zarek interrupted Roslin. "Ms. Roslin, the Quorum would like to move to pass your agenda items without further deliberation."

Laura felt her jaw begin to drop, thankfully her politician's mask held her face firmly in place. _What was he getting at?_ She wondered.

"We also move to temporarily suspend Quorum meetings for no more than 3 weeks, permitting you send us semi-weekly reports."

Roslin forced herself to speak, "Agreed. Do we have a second?"

"Virgon seconds."

"Do we have any additional agenda items?" Every member abstained. "Meeting adjourned." She announced in partial shock.

Adama leaned over, his words creating a soft breeze against her skin, "Maybe I should pull the CAP," He whispered, "And retire. Looks like the Cylons are no longer pursuing the Fleet."

She turned and quietly quipped, "And Earth is only a jump away."

Adama responded within a heartbeat, "So say we all."

_Tbc…_


	4. Something Worth Living For

Chapter 4 Something Worth Living For

Kara swung her pack onto her shoulder as she disembarked the raptor, stepping onto the familiar deck of Galactica.

"Captain Thrace." Tigh smiled as he approached.

Kara's face broke into a grin, "Colonel Tigh." She gave him a quick hug. "The Admiral having you check in personnel."

He marked off Thrace's name, "Yes, and you will be reassuming your duties as CAG of the Galactica, effective immediately. You are to report to the Admiral at 1500 hours in his cabin."

"Yes, Sir." She saluted, but couldn't help notice the absence of personnel on the deck, "How many men on duty?"

Tigh glanced up from his notebook, "The Admiral is temporarily combining Pegasus and Galactica's crew, and that staff Galactica at 1100 souls and Pegasus at 42."

Kara nodded, knowing 'the Old Man' would make do with what he had until something better came along. Kara took a step toward the corridor, and then stopped, her voice barely a whisper. "Any word on how many more we lost?"

"No," Saul's jaw trembled, "The civilian captains are compiling a list." He brought his eyes up to hers, "I was sorry to hear about Anders."

Instinctively, Kara bit her lip as she bobbed her head. "Thanks." She stated as she wiped away her tears. "I miss him." She took a deep breath and forced a smile, "Ellen?"

"Fine, she arrived this morning from the Rising Star and is unpacking."

Thrace readjusted her bag, brushing the last of her tears away. "Which is what I need to do, and use the recycler. Colonel, do you know if the recycler is operating at full capacity?"

Tigh shrugged. "No idea. Why?"

"Just would be nice to finally get the muck of New Caprica off my clothes. The stuff never came off planet-side."

Kara noticed her uniform was tight in a few places, _morning runs starting tomorrow_, she thought wryly. Her feet automatically took her through the halls to Adama's quarters and stopped when she saw Tory standing outside.

"Roslin here?" Kara pointed at Adama's hatch.

"No, she was suppose to be here 30 minutes ago." Tory mumbled as she continued to pace along the hallway.

Kara knocked on Adama's hatch. She heard a faint "Enter" from the other side, and she walked into her CO's quarters. She closed the hatch and marveled at the peace his quarters brought. Warm, earth colors with hundreds of books, new and tattered, lining the walls; a small sanctuary among the chaos – much like her father's music. Adama glanced up from his paperwork, "Kara," he motioned to the chair opposite of the desk. "Please have a seat." He signed a few more documents, before laying his pen and glasses down.

"Sir." She gave a hesitant smile.

"Captain," Taking a deep breath, he continued on, "I have re-assigned you as Galactica's CAG. Please devise a CAP rotation for the Fleet and present it at 1700 hours to Colonel Tigh."

"Yes, Sir. How many pilots between Galactica and Pegasus?"

"23, including yourself."

"Yes, Sir." She stood and saluted.

The Admiral nodded, "Kara," Brown eyes hesitantly meet blue ones. He stood and stepped around his desk. "I heard about Anders." She blinked back tears while wringing her hands. "I am sorry." She bit her lip as the tears fell off her cheeks and he wrapped her in a hug.

Thrace grabbed onto him as a lifeline. _He was her family. _Despite her growing rift with Lee, Adama was now her father. He would do his best to protect her. "Gods, I miss him." She mumbled into his shoulder.

Finally, the tears slowed, and as she straightened - she wiped the puddles out of her eyes. His eyes were crystal blue, filled with emotion. "I know. It won't be easy, just remember you have people here who care for you."

Her voice cracked as she responded, "I…know."

His fingers brought her face up, "What do you hear, Starbuck?" He asked with a hint of a sad smile.

The smallest of smiles graced the corners of her mouth, "Nothing but the rain, Sir."

"Keep your head in the game Kara, we need you." He let his hand drop. "I need you."

Under the grief, the pain and the heartache sprang a glimmer of hope. "Yes, Sir." Another tear slipped down her cheek, "Thank you."

Gaius Baltar shifted uncomfortably in the seat as the Raptor began docking procedures to set down on the Galactica. The bare trappings slipped away, and he was sitting across from Six overlooking Bison Lake just north of Caprica City.

"You know why Adama wants to see you Gaius."

"Darling, there is no evidence." He whispered.

"Then why are you being ferried here?" The lake vanished as the Raptor docked in Galactica.

"For the Quorum to officially reinstate Roslin as President."

"Gaius, for a man of your intelligence, you are quite dense. They are going to charge you for failing to uphold the Articles of Colonization."

"Against a Cylon occupation? Are you fraking serious?" His voice rose up an octave.

"I'm sorry, Sir, I wasn't able to hear you." The pilot called back over her shoulder. "We will be docked momentarily."

"Thank you." He turned back to Six, "For your show of support."

Tory met Roslin in the hallway, "Captain Thrace is in with the Admiral."

"Thank you Tory." She paused momentarily debating if she should disturb the Admiral and Captain. _While on New Caprica she had offered condolences, and Thrace had been very reserved._ _Thrace was doing what the rest of us were at the time, surviving. Since her detention breakout on New Caprica, she had not seen the young Captain nor had the Admiral spoken of Thrace._ _He probably hasn't had time to see her either, until now. She knew they had developed a special father/daughter relationship._ _It will be good for both of them to see each other, start to heal the gaping wounds of New Caprica._

Further internal debate on her entry was moot, the hatch opened and a red eyed Captain exited. "Oh…" Thrace stood at attention, "Madame President."

"Captain Thrace," Her response was automatic and genuine. "Good to see you."

Kara's voice was still raw with emotion from her previous conversation, "You too, Ma'am."

Bill's head appeared in the hatch, his voice was soft. "Thrace, dismissed. I need the reports ASAP, Captain."

Kara relaxed, "Yes, Sir." Her head tilted in respect, "Madame President." And she was off, her steps filled with purpose.

Roslin's eyes followed Thrace, "Will she recover?"

The Admiral knew she was referring to Thrace and Anders, and as he watched Kara's form slip around the corner he was filling quite old at that moment. He had buried so many people, with no end in the foreseeable future – he stepped back into his sanctuary, "She'll be okay, its just going to take some time."

Roslin heard the fatigue in his voice as she followed, closing the hatch. "And you Bill?" She asked slightly worried.

Adama continued to walk to his galley, "Water?"

Her worry increased, when he deliberately dodged her question, "Yes, thank you." Roslin settled on the couch, feeling right at home. _Home, here? That is a dangerous thought_, and she cursed herself for loosing focus.

"I'm fine Laura, just tired." He answered as he reappeared, handing her a glass of water. He reached over and pulled his chair to side of the desk and sat down. "Kara has been through a lot, and she just needs to know there are people here for her." He stated, more to himself that to her.

A few moments lapsed between them, both quietly reflecting on their own thoughts before her voice broke the stillness. "Bill, you were right back at Ragnar." She turned her glass ever so slightly, "It isn't enough to just live. You have to have something to live for."

Her statement felt like an electric current that jolted through him, and he asked before he thought. His voice soft, eyes still bright from his conversation with Kara. "And what are you living for?"


	5. Secrets

Thanks for those who reviewed!!! Most appreciated!

Chapter 5 Secrets

His question, seemingly innocent, sent shockwaves through her. _'What was she living for?' To ensure humanities safety and reach Earth. No, that is what President Roslin was living for, she heard Bill's voice echoing her consciousness. He asked what I was living for. The answer was simple, _Her eyes found his, _him._ "Hope." The President answered, as Laura continued – _Hope that one day we will find a way to bridge our lives past this chaos, past our duties, past our jobs. Hope that one day you can hold me and never let go. Hope that one day you will have the same emotion in your eyes or your voice that you have for Kara or Lee, for me. Hope that one day you will love me._ "And you?"

The water barely appeased the desert of Adama's mouth, _you old fool_, he thought._ That will teach you to ask questions without thinking. _His gaze falling in her molten grey pools, _two people who need each other and yet…not able to be together. _"Family."The Admiral answered, as Bill continued – _that one day you will allow the past to lie in the past and begin to build a life with me here and now. For you have become part of my family, my life, and _he shuddered at the thought_ perhaps you have gone so far as to have stolen a part of my soul._ "And…" A loud knock reverberated from the room, both jumped.

"Enter." Adama stated and downed his glass of water, praying his throat would feel a small hint of moisture.

Tigh stuck his head in, "Sir, Baltar is on his way to the Ward Room."

Adama picked up his oval lenses, "We'll be there momentarily, Colonel. And Captain Thrace will shortly be delivering a new CAP patrol to you, be gentle on her Saul." He stood, offering a hand to Roslin. She graciously accepted, and for a moment he imagined pulling her up into his arms.

"Sir?"

Bill let his hand fall from Roslin's, and he turned to meet his friend's gaze, "She's had a ruff day."

"Yes, Sir." Tigh ducked out of the hatch, heading to CIC.

Adama offered Roslin his arm, "Thank you." She stated sincerely. They stepped out of the hatch, Bill paused as he secured it, before they headed to the Ward Room arm in arm. "You know," Mischief lining his voice, "I also think I would add having time to read a few good books," She glanced over at him, mildly perplexed until she realized he was finishing their cat and mouse conversation. "An ample supply of Ambrosia, a cigar or two to share with Starbuck and, of course," He tipped his head a little closer, "a hanger deck of pencils."

Her laugh echoed along the halls. _Gods, he was incorrigible._

Baltar left the room in a huff. _How dare they?_ "Who do they think they are?" He asked his blond hair companion as he stormed through the 'bucket.' "Be a good little scientist and go back to work." His hands were animatedly flying through the air, "As if I want to just sit and work in a steel walled office."

"Get a grip Gauis," She steered him into the bulkhead, pressing her hand over his mouth, "Have you forgotten everything? You were chosen…"

He yanked her hand down, "Not again with the 'God's plan'. Been there, done that dear, look how that worked out."

Six shoved his head into the bulkhead, "It worked out quite well," She ran her hand up his chest, as slipped her foot out of her shoe and slid that along his leg. "Or do you not remember our evenings together?" Her hand wrapped around his jaw pulling him within inches of her face.

"I remember," And indeed he did. The mere thought ignited his desire for her ten fold.

Six pushed him aside, slipping her foot back into her shoe. "We are all a part of God's plan. And God has granted you the ability to do what I can not."

"And," Baltar swallowed the lump of desire and focused his thoughts on her ridiculous conversation, "what would that be?"

She began to saunter down the hall, "Our child, Gauis, she is here."

"Gods, that could have gone worse." Roslin stated as she pulled her jacket off.

Adama agreed. Baltar was not handling his impeachment well at all. Two days prior to the exodus of New Caprica, the Quorum unanimously voted to have Baltar removed from office stating he did not defend the Articles of Colonization. The Quorum, also, unanimously voted Laura Roslin back into office. During that meeting, talks were brought up regarding charging him, however, no matter how unfortunate, the Fleet still needed Baltar's intellect.

That was 4 days ago. Baltar had been reclusive since being ousted from office, and he was less than thrilled today at being 'assigned' to return to Galactica to assist with deciphering Cylon technology.

"You know, Bill." Roslin leaned against the table, "Threatening to throw him in the brig…"

Bill raised his eyebrows, "I merely reminded him of his _civic_ duty."

A chuckle slipped her lips before returning to the seriousness of the conversation, "I don't trust him."

"Nor do I." He replied sincerely.

"When I stated I saw him with the tall blonde Cylon model," An edge began lining her voice, "Bill, I wasn't delusional."

"Laura, I believe you." He reached out and touched her arm, "However, we don't have any proof." He let his arm drop, "Nor was there any proof of Cylon collusion on New Caprica."

"Then, where does that leave us?" She asked, trying not to sound dejected.

"Not trusting him."

"Surely that isn't all." She noticed the twinkle in his eyes, "Admiral, you are up to something."

"No more secrets." He paused, knowing he was on dangerous ground. "Can I have your word on this matter?"

She started to answer and he interrupted, "Your word as Laura Roslin, not the President of the Twelve Colonies."

Instantly she knew he was referring to the incident on regarding Thrace. "I..." She met his gaze, "How do you know there is a difference?"

"Because, I too, am two people, an Admiral of the Colonial Fleet and William Adama."

"And which person am I giving my word to?" She asked, eyes narrowing.

"William Adama." He stated quietly, holding his breath as he waited for her response.

_Could she trust this man? Yes. Enough to give her word to?_ "Yes." She whispered, "And your word?"

"Yes." He breathed out. They sat there for a moment, not wanting to say anything, marveling in their respective willingness to completely trust another person. Trust not due to necessity, but due to mutual admiration, respect and a desire to not let the Cylons' drive humanity into extinction based on Adama's and Roslin's unwillingness to trust each other. They were the guardians of the Fleet, for better or worse.

"After Pegasus is fully operational, I am going to assign two members of my crew to 'keep tabs' shall we say on Baltar's activity."

"And when he is not on Galactica?"

"I am hoping the President will be able to spare a member of her detail from time to time, so it is not the same person intermingling in close proximity to Baltar in the Civilian Fleet."

"Done." She paused for a moment, thinking of Hera._ Talk about secrets…_

"How did your meeting go with Zarek?" His question forcing her to focus on the man before her.

_What did he ask…Zarek? _"He wanted to meet and explain the Quorum's last two resolutions." She answered, thanking the gods on her ability to multi-task.

"And?" He prompted.

"Zarek understands life will be rocky for the next few weeks, and he feels the Quorum will serve better by helping the people through this difficult time."

Bill nodded, "Figures, Zarek doesn't want to get his hands dirty, just reap the rewards."

Roslin picked her jacket up off the chair, "A win – win for them. I do all the work, if I succeed I will remain President, if I don't succeed," Slipping her jacket on, she continued, "They blame me and say its not their fault, and choose a successor."

"Leaving the people with the delusion that their Quorum has been elected to help protect and serve – not cower based on public opinion."

"Bill, if we don't make this work, they'll state you coerced them into selecting me."

"I only led the resistance from up here, you led it on New Caprica. But, let's not worry about that yet, we have too many important things to concern ourselves with." He smiled, and he noticed that her attention was again distracted. "Laura, it will…"

"Bill," She blurted out, "There is something I think you should know." She crossed her fingers in front of her waist, trying not to look as troubled as she felt. _Would he understand?_

"If it is about Zarek…"

She shook her head, "No," A half laugh escaped, "That would be easy." She stated uneasily. "Secrets, though are…not." She unconsciously pulled her half moon glasses off. _Gods, she hoped he would understand._

Bill stood rooted to the spot. _When he had asked her for her word, he didn't think….didn't think…but what secrets did she still have? Was the cancer back?_ A lump began forming in his throat, "What?" He forced through his closing esophagus.

"Hera's alive."


	6. Housekeeping

**Chapter 6 Housekeeping**

_What?! _"WHAT?!" Adama didn't know what else to say. Shock, fury swelled through him – _what if the Cylons know, or if they find out?_ Instantly followed by a quelshing pain - hurt, _why couldn't she trust me?_

Roslin knew not to answer, because he wasn't listening to anyone but his own internal monologue.

"The Cylon child, correct?" His voice was dangerously low and as she nodded in confirmation, he continued in a strained voice. "I suppose you have a reason."

_No secrets_, she repeated to herself. "I gave you my word, no secrets." At these words, he seemed to be utilizing every year of his military training to continue standing where he was and not vocalizing his thoughts. "Bill, this is the last one. I promise." He hadn't moved, and she hoped this was a good sign, "When Hera was born, I had Doc Cottle switch the babies and pronounce Hera dead. You know as well as I do, we could never let Sharon or Helo raise a hybrid child nor could we permit everyone to think she was still alive. The Cylons would want the child…" Her voice began faltering, _no secrets_, she repeated her mantra and forced herself to continue on. "Doubling their efforts on locating us."

For the third time in his life, William Adama was at a loss. Anger, surprise, hurt, and as potent as those feelings were coursing through him, they were tempered by wanting to enfold her in his arms, and wishing she didn't have to make hard decisions that haunted her. "I don't condone what you did, however, the danger you have placed this Fleet in…" He let his voice fade away, _she knows_, he thought, _she doesn't need lectured._

They stood unmoving, the inner workings of the Galactica going on around them. Finally, Adama spoke, "I have meeting with Mr. Gaeta."

He took the necessary steps to the door and just before opening the hatch, Roslin spoke, "Bill."

He paused and turned to her. "Yes."

_He thinks I needlessly endangered the Fleet_, she thought as she met his eyes. She bit her tongue, unable to say what was in her heart, and the President quickly altered Laura's intended words, "Do you mind if I stop by your quarters and grab my notes?"

"Help yourself." He pulled open the hatch and disappeared down the hallway.

Bill was in no mood for his meeting, and if it wasn't so damn important he would have cancelled it. _The problem is, everything anymore is so fraking important. He knew his temper was near boiling, Roslin had seen to that. What was she thinking? Hera alive. Gods, did Roslin realize how fraked up this was? Why did she keep Hera alive? Why all the pretense?_ Each step taken to CIC came quicker. _Because, _he answered himself, _she values life. All life. Hera is alive, it is not her fault her mother is a Cylon._ Adama shook his head, desperately trying to clear his thoughts as he stepped onto CIC.

"Admiral on deck."

Without thought he responded, "As you were." He turned to Tigh, "What is the sit rep on the Gamgee?"

Tigh leaned closer to Adama, "Sir, the marine strikeforce has everyone calmed down, but tensions are high. Apparently the lack of food, water, and other supplies are due to the captain pillaging his stores for personal gain."

Adama slammed his fist into the tactical center, "Who has he graciously given his supplies to?" Adama asked through gritted teeth.

_Tigh knew he would be irritated, but this was different. Someone else had all ready wound him up. Great! _"Teryan Napir, the Caprican Quorum delegate." Tigh continued with his intel report, knowing the Admiral would wish to know. "He is currently on board the Astral Queen." _Tigh almost felt bad for the Napir, he was going to get the brunt of Adama's wrath._

"Helo, pull any supply ships en-route to the Astral Queen and send them to the Gamgee."

"Sir?" Helo asked, feigning he wasn't listening to his XO and CO's conversation.  
Adama turned to Saul, "Where is Mr. Gaeta?"

Felix Gaeta walked onto the CIC, out of breath. "Sorry Sir." He drew up into attention.

"At ease," Adama stepped to Felix as Tigh was giving orders to Helo regarding the Gamgee. "Mr. Gaeta, I know you have just re-enlisted and have not had time to stow your personal belongings, however, I need you to plot a three jump sequence."

"Sir? A three jump sequence?"

"Yes, can you have the sequence ready within the next 3 hours?"

"Ahh." Gaeta was speechless. Three jumps, consecutively. "Sir, I haven't plotted any jumps…"

Adama's blue eyes were piercing, "Nor has anyone else Mr. Gaeta. I need those jump sequences within three hours." Adama noticed Gaeta was still lacking confidence, "That is an order, Lieutenant." He dropped his voice a notch, "And despite your time lapse in plotting jumps, you are the best person for the job. Dismissed." Gaeta's spine seemed a little straighter as he walked to his old post.

"Colonel Tigh," Adama waited for the Colonel to move a few feet closer, "I would like a copy of the intel regarding Mr. Napir and the captain of the Gamgee."

"Yes, Sir."

Adama starred at the dradis for a moment, his thoughts instantly returning to the red headed woman and the child named 'Hera'. _What are the odds of the Cylons knowing Hera is alive? _He glanced around CIC, the color slowly draining from his face, _Odds equitable to the Cylons almost wiping out human existence a year and a half ago. Gods, do we have to be careful…_

Kara cracked her fingers again as she re-read the roster list for the CAP rotations. _Not enough pilots_, she thought as the pilots filed in for a pre-flight briefing. She counted heads as Kat and Hotdog took their seats. _19 Pilots. A total of 23 pilots between Galactica and Pegasus. That hurts. _"Listen up." Unconsciously she twisted her father's ring as she set her hands down on the podium, "As each of you are aware, the Admiral has combined resources until our numbers increase." She glanced down at the CAP rotations, hoping it had miraculously changed. _No such luck_. She focused her attention back to her pilots, "We have 23 pilots."

Everyone looked at each other, Hotdog spoke up, "Sir, surely there are more pilots between the Galactica and Pegasus than 23."

An edge slipped into Thrace's voice, "23 Hotdog. Hopefully, our friends who went to New Caprica will be joining us soon. However, we have a job to do until our friends return or we train new nuggets. Either way, it will be a long week for all of us." She picked up the CAP rotation, "Here is the CAP rotation through the week, and the call list of alert pilots."

"Sir," Kat's defiance in Thrace was evident as she spoke, "Call list of Alert pilots? There aren't enough of us to have a call list." Her bubble gum popped at the end of the sentence, accentuating her point.

Thrace came out from behind the podium, she pursed her lips a moment before folding her arms in front of her, "And you have a better idea?"

Kat smirked at Thrace, "Yeah, get some stems from Doc Cottle and have us all be on call for the week instead of a stone throw of us that won't do any fraking good if the Cylons show up."

Starbuck nodded her head, "Great idea Kat. Just great." She squinted her eyes ever so much, "Stems. Your bread and butter, right Kat? Except, we don't have enough stems for all of us to take. I have all ready spoken with Cottle, and our medication situation is beyond poor. No stems. We do this the old fashion way, rotating shifts." She paused, driving her point home. "This isn't about us winning against the Cylons over the next couple of weeks, it is about us surviving as a species. We need to ensure the civilian transports can safely jump and keep the incoming away from Galactica and hopefully within the next few days, Pegasus too. We are all slated for 20 hour rotations, when you are not on rotation, you are to be in your rack getting some shut eye. That is an order. Everyone understand?"

The room, even Kat, responded in unity, "Yes, Sir."

"A copy of the schedule is posted at the back of the flight deck. Dismissed." Starbuck turned to head toward the CIC and give the report to Tigh.

"Thank you, Mr. Gaeta." Adama glanced at the information, "Well done and in record time." He handed the reports back to the Lieutenant, "Personally see that each of the captains receive a copy of these coordinates and understand these are 3 consecutive jumps. Once we spin up our FTL drives and make the first jump, the subsequent two jumps will occur without colonial communication and straight to the final destination."

"Yes, Sir." He began to head toward the communications station, but Adama's voice stopped him. "Mr. Gaeta,"

"Sir?"

"How close does this put us to Astral Body M8?"

Gaeta looked mildly taken back by the question, but responded in a heartbeat. "After the next three jumps, I'd say another 5 jumps Sir."

"Thank you." Adama turned his attention back to Saul, "How many reports are we waiting on regarding resources?"

"We have half."

"Mr. Gaeta," Adama looked over his shoulder, and Gaeta placed his hand on the phone. "As you are informing the captains of the next series of destinations, please cordially remind them to send their supply list over to Galactica – immediately."

Gaeta nodded, returning his attention to one of the Fleet's captains.

"Enlistment?"

Tigh rubbed the bridge of his nose, fighting to keep the fatigue at bay, "Here." He handed the report to the Admiral. Personnel was returning, but it was going to take some time. Lack of shuttles for ferrying passengers, lack of pilots on each vessel, allocation of food and water, and the list continued.

"78." Bill pulled off his glasses, "Well," He dropped his voice a bit, "That is 78 more than we had this morning."

Tigh shook his head, "None were pilots."

Unfortunately Adama knew exactly what Tigh was referring to. "Kara finish with the rotation?"

Saul nodded, "23 pilots on 20 hour rotations between the CAP and stationed as alert fighters. She has managed to arrange 2 on CAP patrol and 16 on standby."

Bill slipped his glasses back on, mumbling to Tigh, "We need more pilots. They can manage a four day rotation on that schedule, after that..." He shook his head, "Tired and sloppy." He scooped up his stack of reports, "I am going to my quarters."

"Sir."

Adama's feet walked the familiar corridors of the Galactica, his mind on the reports in his hands. As he turned the corner, he saw _her_. Roslin was heading down toward him, satchel on her shoulder. _She must have finished her paperwork_, he thought regretfully. _He was no longer angry, just hurt that she couldn't trust him. And worried, for the safety of the Fleet._ He slowed his gait, as did she until they were standing a few feet apart. The military guard proceed several feet down the hall, leaving the two in near solitude.

"Laura," He paused, searching for the right words.

She crossed her arms and waited, looking at him over the rim of her glasses. _Was he sorry? Hurt she hadn't told him sooner? Angry at her endangering the Fleet...?_

"I…" His sentence died away as klaxons sounded and Tigh's voice came across the intercom. "Set Condition 1 throughout the ship. We have incoming Cylons."

Adama's face became a stone military mask, and he turned on his heel, pausing only momentarily to speak with Laura, "You are welcome to accompany me to CIC." He stated as Helo repeated his first page, "Admiral Adama report to CIC."


	7. 3, 2, 1 Jump?

**Chapter 7 3, 2, 1 Jump?**

Kara's viper shot out of the tub, and she felt her heart stop.

"Holy Frak." Kat's voice echoing Kara's thoughts. Kara closed her eyes for a half second, feeling the years of military training come over her – finding her resolve and her nerve. There were 3 Basestars and hundreds of raiders heading straight for Galactica.

"Keep the chatter down." Thrace stated, "Pull into formation, and for Frak sake, stay out of Galactica's firing solution and don't leave the red zone. We need to land within 20 seconds of the order."

"Copy that." Hotdog replied.

_Lords of Kobol_, Thrace kicked her weapons on, "Weapons free." _Watch over us._

The vipers pulled into 2 formations, and for a moment time paused as Galactica's weapons began their defensive barrage and the Cylons their offensive onslaught. Gorgeous fireworks in the opaque sky, not a desperate struggle for survival, and the moment was gone as the Fleet were quickly disappearing in the background, including a mildly wounded Pegasus. She had taken a wayward Cylon impact from a partially destroyed raider, but she was away.

"There are too many of them." Panic lining Monk's voice.

Starbuck pulled back on her throttle, avoiding two raiders engagement, "Focus Monk. You'll make it. We all will."

Thrace's heart hit her stomach as she saw the Galactica, fires readily apparent on the forward deck. "CAG to Galactica." She downed another raider.

"Galactica, go ahead CAG." Helo's voice sounded weak across the comm.

"Your forward deck is taking heavy hits. Fires evident."

A cough came across the comm, "All pilots return to base. All pilots return to…" His voice faded off, "You heard him, get home. Now." Starbuck kicked in her thrusters as did the remaining pilots, _Hurry, _she thought_, before there isn't a home to go back to._ She felt her fighter touch down on the deck, and she could see the landing bays locking down. She waited for the all too familiar sensation of the FTL jump, and when Galactica rocked from impact, Starbuck swallowed hard. _Please don't let this be the end. If anyone can save us, it's the 'Old Man'. _She blinked, the landing bay giving way to a blackened, soot filled hanger deck. _Holy frak!_ The ship jumped and Kara's heart leapt for joy with the knowledge that they would be alive for another day. However, as the cockpit opened, the acrid air filled her lungs, electronics sparked, crew members fighting small fires across the deck, crew members bodies laying broken and at odd angles she knew the price for another day was high.

Thrace popped up out of the cockpit, "Get a move on," She signaled to the pilots, "Help get these fires out."

0000000ooooo….

"Sir, we have incoming." Dualla's voice echoed across CIC.

"Brace for impact." Lee stated, as grabbed onto the tactical station. The raider pieces rocked the ship, Lee regained his balance. "Can we still jump?"

"Sir?" Dualla questioned.

"Lieutenant, can we still jump?" He asked.

"Sir, I just thought." Dualla checked the screens, "The FTL drive remains operational."

"Continue on the countdown." Lee looked at the dradis screen. _Gods, three basestars._

"Three." Dualla's voice echoed in the cacophony of the mayhem that was transpiring on the dradis.

_Why did I listen to my father? We can't help. We don't have the manpower._

"Two."

_Because, he was right. Combine resources, enable the Fleet to survive._

"One."

_Now they are all going to die. Galactica, Roslin, Tigh, Helo…_

"Jump."

Lee closed his eyes as the familiar pull of the FTL washed over him, _…Kara, and Dad. Gods, what have I done?_

"Sir, we have dradis contact, Colonial transponders." Dualla stated, her voice shaking.

Adama pulled himself upright, "Stand down to condition 2, and have everyone left on the Pegasus meet me at the aft deck to get those fires out. He headed out of CIC, _I'm doing what needs done for the Fleet's survival._ But as he headed toward the fires, the guilt followed him too.

0000000oooooo….

Tigh grasped the tactical center as the floorboards shook again, "How many ships still remain?"

"12, Pegasus included."

"Sir," Captain Brackin stated, "The port Basestar is trying to outflank us."

Tigh looked at the dradis, "Re-direct forward batteries and engage aft thrusters. We'll jam our batteries down their throat."

"Sir?" 

"You have your orders." His voice dropped to a whisper, "We have to protect the civilians, and if we are going to go – then we'll take a Basestar or two with them." The decks crumpled again, _Where are you Bill? _"Helo, Adama call in?"

He responded, "No, Sir." Tigh kept the mask, but the worry was beginning to creep through him. "Pegasus has been hit." Helo's voice cut through the air.

Tigh felt his stomach enter his throat, _not Bill's son too_. "How bad?"

Helo paused, "They are still following the jump sequence."

The plating buckled, and Tigh picked himself up, coughing a few times from the sudden smoke filling the air.

"CAG to Galacitca." Starbuck's voice cutting through the static and chatter.

Helo coughed a few times, trying to fill his lungs with something other than the smoke quickly filling CIC. "Galactica, go ahead CAG."

"Your forward deck is taking heavy hits. Fires evident."

_We can't keep this up._ Tigh thought as he coughed what felt like a quarter of his lung up. "Recall the Vipers." He wheezed out.

"All pilots return to base."

"Last ship is away."

"Sir, we have incoming." The three voices stated simultaneously.

000000ooooooooo……..

Adama felt the deck plates shudder beneath him, his balance wavering. The ship jolted again, this time Adama's body slammed against the wall. He steadied himself, and turned to see how Laura fared. She too was plastered against the wall.

"Fire control to the port hanger deck." Helo's voice bellowed.

Roslin and Adama straightened, Adama's eyes portraying his worry, "We're out gunned." He stated as they continued along the corridor. _Hold together 'old girl', we need you to hold together. _

"How long can the Galactica hold?" Roslin's voice became louder as the Galactica shuddered again.

"Depends on how large the Cylon strike force is." He finished as he peeled himself off of another wall.

Roslin braved a smile as she continued with Adama toward the CIC, "15 minutes?" She hoped.

Adama shook his head, "No, we won't be here. We've got 6 maybe 7." Thunder ripped through the Galactica, and his body was propelled forward, and he was again picking himself up. _I'm getting too old for this._

"Almost to CIC." He stated to his equally weary companion who pocketed her glasses after the last tumble.

"Good, the hallway is becoming dangerous."

Somewhere in the depths of Adama's consciousness, he processed what she stated, and despite the circumstances a minute grin graced his face. The grin dissipated when he felt Galactica scream. He had never wished to hear that noise, and as he turned to Laura, his eyes told her all that she needed to know – _this could be it. _

The deck began shimmering, the metal began to create shapes out of the once flat unobtrusive walls and floors. A breeze fluttered down the passage, bringing ill fortune for all that felt it.

Adama grabbed Roslin's hand, pushing them into a set of small crew quarters. They began sealing the hatch as the pressure from space wished to equalize the environment. As the hatch sealed, they spun the wheel – hearts pounding and ragged breathing filling the small space.

_TBC…. Special THANK YOU to those who have read & reviewed. It is most definitely appreciated!_


	8. First Things First

Life is about to get very interesting…

**Chapter 8 First Things First…**

"Laura," Bill asked between pained breaths, "You all right?"

She turned to look at him, pushing back sweat-drenched hair from her face. "I'm alive." She gulped another breath, "Thank you." She noticed his breathing was more labored than hers, "You?" She moved a bit to get a clearer view of his body.

Bill reached down with his left hand to his right side as he picked up his right arm and looked. He couldn't help as the grimace passed across his face.

"Oh Gods, Bill." Laura was on her knees, leaning closer to inspect the wound. The side of his uniform was all ready saturated and crimson with blood, "I can't tell how bad," She looked up at him, "I need you to take off your uniform."

_Not exactly the circumstances that I would like to have her say that_. His side was starting to ache, "I'm running out of these." He gestured to his uniform as he began unbuttoning his jacket.

"Surely not." Her eyes trying to focus on his face, not the way his hands automatically slipped open each button. She felt her throat going dry, _Laura, get a grip. There is a vacuum of space on the other side of the hatch, we are in a closet with beds and being bombed into oblivion by the Cylons – but_, she noticed the pained look on his face from his movements.

"I didn't grab an extra five or six uniforms before giving my retirement speech," He stated dryly, "Didn't think I'd need them."

Laura pointed to his side, desperately focusing on something other than him undoing his uniform jacket. "Any idea how this happened?"

"When closing the hatch, something hit my side." He paused when Roslin reached up and finished unbuttoning his jacket. Unconsciously, he took a deep breath, smelling the light floral scent that he had come to know as Laura._ She's an angel, _he thought watching her delicate hands retreat back into her personal space. _Get a grip Bill, _he swore at himself; _this is no time to be an infatuated, lovesick teenager. _"I didn't think much about it at the time," He pulled his jacket off, "Uhh, Thank you. My attention was focused on the rupturing hallway."

The room shook and the upturned personal items slid toward them. Adama and Roslin bolted to their feet, dodging the incoming mattress, pillows, and the raft of personal items ranging from clothes, razors, and bottles of Ambrosia to pictures, pyramid balls and trunks.

Roslin took a breath while brushing off the liquor and glass from the bottles. "Bill, how many more hits can Galactica take before she can't jump?"

His blue eyes met her grey one, "I don't know Laura. But if we don't jump soon, we won't have to worry about my crews personal objects nor how we are going to get out of here."

She looked at his side, blood dripping off his shirt, "First things first…" She said meeting his eyes, "We need to get the bleeding stopped."

He nodded and pulled off his tank with a groan. His side was really beginning to become uncomfortable. He took a breath for a moment, steeling himself as he counted to three and pulled off his shirt.

Roslin found an intact bottle of Ambrosia and yanked a sheet off of a wayward mattress. She turned and stopped as his shirt pealed away. The long scar that traveled from stem to stern on his chest captured her eyes. _His strong, well muscled chest – what else is his uniform hiding?_ Her gaze almost slipped lower, but she managed to yank her eyes up to his. His face gazing at her questioningly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to offend…" She took a step toward him, trying to strengthen her resolve.

His responded, trying not to feel self-conscious. "It took me quite a while to get use to it."

The familiar feeling of the Galactica jumping with its FTL enveloped them. As the world snapped back into focus, Adama and Roslin broke out into relieved smiles while pulling each other in for a hug.

0000ooooooo……

"Sir, we have contact on dradis…its Colonial." Helo stated with relief as cheers whooped through CIC.

"Good work people," Tigh stated, he turned to the schematic of Galactica, "We have fires throughout the Galactica, and we need to get these under control, ASAP." He felt his jaw clench, "And we need to find the Admiral."

The jubilance evaporated as everyone in CIC realized the missing presence of the 'Old Man'. "Sir, we have call coming in from Pegasus Actual."

Tigh picked it up, "It is great to see the Galactica. Congratulations, Admiral." Dualla's voice belaying her relief.

Tigh heard himself clear his throat as he responded, "Thank you, Dualla. Was the damage to the Pegasus significant?"

Dualla felt her heart start to sink, _Where was the Admiral?_ "Uhh, no Sir. Commander Adama and all personnel are extinguishing the last of the fires and beginning repairs. When Galactica appeared, I thought…" She paused momentarily before continuing on, "I'd inform the Commander, Sir."

"We have taken heavy causalities and have a hull breach on the port side. And the Admiral is missing." He paused when he heard her breathing stop. "He did not appear in CIC during the engagement."

"I…I'll…pass that information to the Commander. Pegasus out." The line went dead and Tigh hung up the receiver. _Gods, Bill. Don't be dead._ He picked his eyes up to the worried expressions of the crew.

"Sir," Helo handed a report to Tigh, and as his eyes skimmed it – dread began to seep into his skin. The breach along the port side was along a corridor between Adama's quarters and CIC.

"Eyes on me." Tigh stated, drawing on every once of his command training, "The Admiral is missing, not dead. We will find him. We will have two teams on this ship, one sealing the hull; the other searching the ship from stem to stern for the Admiral. Is that understood?"

Everyone in CIC responded. "Yes, Sir."

_Don't be dead._ Tigh repeated his latest mantra, followed by his daily one, _Gods, I need a drink._

00000000000000oooooooooooooo………

It was meant to be nothing more than a supportive, _thank the gods_, friend hug, however, neither one released the other. They stood their, arms wrapped around the other relishing the feeling. _The scent of her hair…the feel of his back…the way her head tucks naturally into my shoulder…the way his strong arms enable me to feel safe, even if just for a moment._

Reluctantly, they began to pull away the pain igniting in Adama's side as he moved again. "Mmhhh" Slipped out despite his best intentions.

"Bill, let me see your side." Her eyes and voice sounded worried. She picked up the alcohol, popped the top off, "Going to use this as a disinfectant," She paused as she looked at the gash, "Definitely need to stop the bleeding." The side of his uniform pants now saturated too.

He looked down at his side, "Yes, I am sure I only have so much." He stated in a light-hearted voice. "But pass the bottle here before you empty it."

She handed the bottle to him as she tore strips of cloth from the bed linens. He upended the bottle, taking a few heavy swallows. Feeling the alcohol warming his stomach, he handed the bottle back to Laura. "Thanks." He stated, his blue eyes piercing hers.

"This will probably burn." She began dabbing the linens around the gash, while pouring the alcohol on the wound itself. Small groans and odd words "Tssit." Slipped from him as she continued to clean out his side. Finally she took a four by four square and held it on his ribs, "Hold that."

Thankful she was no longer burning his side, he quickly complied. She picked up a long strip and disappeared from view. Her voice suddenly in his ear, and arm snaking around to his front. "I'm going to wrap your side."

She felt her breathing quicken as she touched his skin, sweat beading up on her forehead, _Laura, what are you thinking? _She stated as her hand shakily returned to her other hand at his back, deftly tying a knot. _Of helping him out of the rest of his clothes_, her brain responded without hesitation. With shaky legs, she took a deep step back. _Maybe if we just…_vivid images sprang into her mind of _his mouth covering hers, his hands running up her legs_…_get a grip_, she ordered herself."You need stitches." Her voice betraying her inner turmoil.

Adama turned around, his eyes matching the passion in hers. "First thing," He covered the distance between them in a heartbeat, "First." His voice was a gravelly whisper, sending goose bumps from her head to her toes.

Here in the sanctity of a shoebox, the man laid down his Admiralty while the woman laid down her Presidency. Bill gently reached up, his fingers tracing her soft jaw line. Instinctively, Laura tilted her head, eyes drifting closed. His lips gently touching, searching – hers gladly granting.

His hands running down her arms, her hands feeling his muscles ripple across his back. "Laura." His voice barely audible as she re-captured his mouth. One hand in her hair, the other raking down her side – stopping to the side of her breast. His thumb playing across, breaking the kiss with a moan, followed by a throaty, "Bill."

He went to kiss the side of her silken neck, when his side caught. "Frak," He mumbled and Laura remembered as she glanced at his side, blood still dripping down. He closed his eyes as she gently ran her hands through his hair. His breathing mildly labored, he spoke. "Laura." Crystal blue ones looking through his oval glasses, "I want to…"

Laura placed a solitary finger on his lips, "Me too, Bill." She leaned into him, breathing him in – sweat, blood, aftershave…all of it. _She loved the way he smelled._

Burning passion threatening to consume them. They held onto each other, hoping to still their hearts a bit.

He traced her jaw; "We need to find a way out of here." He kissed her forehead, "So I can get stitches, and not loose all my blood making love to you."

"That would be good." She pulled back slightly, kissing his cheek. "Since I might want you to do it again." She stated softly.

His eyes twinkled, "So say we all."

She felt a laugh bubble up, "Your incorrigible." Laura stepped away, freely admiring Bill.

She reached down, picking up his undershirt and tank. "I think these have seen better days." Tossing them to him.

"Yeah, and I can't call in a re-supply order." He said light-heartedly. Holding his clothes, he stepped on the mattresses, trying to avoid personal belongings before stopping in front of his crews' lockers. Opening them, he began searching their lockers for fresh clothes. Luck granted him a new shirt and tank. He took the few steps back to Laura, dropping his bloody ones on his jacket. "Would you mind?" He opened the shirt, and as he slipped it on, Laura helped slide it down his chest – limiting his torso movement. "Thanks." He stated.

"Better, "She stated," "But I prefer the natural look." Her eyes were twinkling with mischief.

He raised his eyebrow, "And I'm sure, I'd prefer your natural look as well." His words brought a crimson blush to her cheeks. He saved her from responding as he began heading toward the back of the quarters, stopping below the vent. "The air ducts must not be ruptured."

She stumbled toward him; her shoes were not made to walk on mattresses. Pulling out her glasses, she looked up at the duct, "That is 10 feet up."

He nodded, "Yes." Glancing around the room, he was taking in an inventory. "Nothing of note." He mumbled.

"How large is the duct?" Laura asked with trepidation, she was not fond of tight places.

"Large enough for you to get help."

Dawnation registered across her face, "No." She shook her head, exemplifying her stance, "No. No. Not unless you are coming too."

"Laura," His hands resting on her shoulders, "I can lift you up, you can open up and then crawl through the vent. Even if there was something for me to stand on, I wouldn't be able to hoist myself up in my present state."

She met his gaze, _he's right._ "Okay." She grabbed his arm, preventing him from stepping away. "But before I go up there, Bill…we need to figure out what _this_ is." She stated, looking over her moon glasses.

He paused for a moment, "_This_ is? Laura, I thought we clarified our feelings." He sounded puzzled and mildly hurt.

She lowered her glasses, looking at him with grey eyes filled with emotion. "I just want to…" She bit her lower lip, "be sure…"

Recognition struck Adama, "That we aren't reacting to the stress of the situation."

She nodded, feeling mildly relieved he understood. "Yes."

He brought his hand up, stroking the side of her face with his thumb, "Be sure, Laura."

In a heartbeat, Bill Adama had made her world feel colossally lighter. "You too." She gave him a rare, unmasked smile that lit up her eyes. "How are the Admiral and President going to handle…"

His thumb slid off her face, as one solitary finger closed her lips. "First things, first." He replaced his fingers with his lips, drinking in her sweetness before pulling back to finish, "We'll work that out, later."

Roslin pocketed her glasses, testing this new territory of their relationship, "While I'm shimming through the air duct, you better be coming up with some strategies."

"Of course." He, too, decided to test their new relationship, "But my first strategic priority will be getting the two of us alone."

She leaned over, kissing him. Relishing the feel of his lips, wishing they could occupy their time differently. With that thought, she pulled back. She noticed his side was still leaking, "After you hoist me up, try not to move much. Your side hasn't stopped bleeding."

"Yeah," He smiled, he didn't want to worry her, but he was starting to feel tired. "It's getting quite uncomfortable."

She held onto him for support and pulled her shoes and stockings off. "Not a good day to wear a suit." Roslin mumbled, and then inspiration struck her. "Do you think there are any clothes that would fit me in those lockers?"

"What?" He asked, _I must be hearing things._

She read his expression and pursed her lips, "Bill, clothes other than a suit that won't enable me to maneuver in the air ducts."

"Ohhh." He stepped over to the lockers, and lady luck shinned on them again. He pulled a shirt and sweats out and handed them to her. She went to change, and paused feeling extremely uncomfortable. His voice broke her thoughts, "You are in luck, I don't feel well enough to ravish you." He carefully unzipped her skirt, "However," He kissed her neck, trying to ignore his ever-present side. "You have no need to feel uncomfortable. I am still a gentlemen." With that he turned around. He heard a rustle, and then another, and then her hands on his arm. "Thank you, Bill."

He nodded. She noticed his face was becoming markedly paler, "Can you still lift me?"

He nodded, "I hope so, because shortly, I don't think I'll be standing." He brought a smile to his face, letting it touch his eyes, "So, I'll just have to sit and plan my strategies."

She knew he wouldn't be sitting either. His body was going into shock from loss of blood. _I need to get help._ "Promise, pressure and no movement."

"Yes, Sir." He moved a stray hair from her face, "When you get in the air duct, you should only have to go 50 feet to another junction. If it looks damaged, head another way."

"Got it." She was as nervous as him, but the crimson color on his shirt gave her all the resolve she needed.

"I'm going to squat down, I want you to stand on my shoulders, and then I'll slowly stand up."

"Got it." They met halfway for a kiss that was filled with emotion and desperation. "I'll be right back." He squatted down, "Don't go anywhere." She stated as she unsteadily placed her feet on his shoulders.

"You know," He started to stand, "I am going to requisition the Fleet for some sweats and a few T-shirts for you."

"Why?" She asked dropping the duct behind Adama.

"Because, they make you look absolutely adorable." He felt her spring off his shoulders, "You all right?" He asked, hearing her clamoring above him.

"Next time, your turn. No lame side excuse." She mumbled from the vent. She heard him chuckle, "Its filthy up here."

"Glad you aren't in your suit." He walked over the wall, using it for support as he slid down it.

Her voice was becoming distant, "Me too." She sneezed, "Hold on Bill. I'll be back with help." Her words never reached his ears, she was too far gone. He placed pressure on his side, wincing as he did. Bill's focus began wavering until his eyes landed on Laura's neatly folded suit. He thoughts reminiscing over the events from the last 15 minutes. _He couldn't wait to see her again_, he thought as his eyes slid closed.

_TBC…thank you for your reviews – :) and your comments!_


	9. Chapter 9  You've Got to be Kidding

**Chapter 9 You have got be kidding…**

Thrace pushed back her sweaty hair, she was tired and in need of a fresh set of clothes, but they were going to have to wait – finding Adama couldn't. Before speaking with Tigh, she had re-deployed the CAP around the Fleet. Now she wished she hadn't, because that would be 3 more people who could join the search.

_He's the 'Old Man.'_ She thought, _He'll be all right._ _He's got to be all right….Please Lords of Kobol, let him be all right._ She rounded another corner, almost to her search quadrant when she heard a strange noise. Starbuck stopped and listened. It sounded like someone was in the air ducts. In a heartbeat, Thrace sounded the alarm and drew and pointed her weapon at the grate. "Whoever is up there, open the grate and drop to the floor."

Roslin heard a familiar voice as she approached the opening, "Hello?" She yelled out, sneezing again. _Bill, you need to have someone clean these things. _

_That sounded like the President. Nah, that's impossible. No one has reported Roslin missing._ Thrace shook her head, "You are ordered immediately open the grate and drop to the floor. I am going to count to…"

"Kara?" Roslin questioned as she unlatched the grate. Her hair a disheveled mess, dirt smudges along her face.

Starbuck did a double take. It was the President, but…Kara immediately holstered her weapon, "Madame President," She grabbed the phone, "Stand down from intruder alert in deck 10 corridor 3." She slammed the receiver down. "If I may ask…"

Roslin immediately interrupted, "We need a medical team, immediately for the Admiral."

Kara's face went white. "Is he…?"

"He has lost a lot of blood, and may have some internal bleeding along his right side." Roslin adjusted herself and lowered her body down into the corridor until she was a few feet from the floor. She let go, falling the last bit. The impact stung her feet, but she quickly righted herself. "We are also going to need someone to cut through a couple walls, because on the other side of the hatch is space."

Kara had a thousand questions, _Space? _But everyone died away when she noticed the blood on her leg. "Madam President, your leg."

Laura looked down and saw the blood. Her heart tore, _Bill's blood._ "It's not mine Captain," Laura cleared her throat, "It is the Admiral's."

Kara's hand was shaking as she picked up the phone, "Get me CIC." Thrace relayed the information to Tigh and as soon as she hung up the phone, Tigh's voice could be heard along the paging system requesting Doc Cottle and 3 crews from the landing bays ASAP to report to Captain Thrace."

Kara turned to the President, "Ma'am," She took in her appearance, "It will take us a few minutes until we can send a medical team through the ducts to assist him, and until the crews arrive I don't know what the ETA is for cutting through the bulkheads."

Roslin's expression was a politician's mask, "And, your point Captain?"

"Umm, Ma'am, you may want to head to your quarters and clean-up." Starbuck eyes were pleading Roslin not to make her spell it out.

Roslin was standing in the middle of the corridor, covered with black from head to toe in sweats, a T-shirt, and no shoes. "All right Captain." She turned, eyes squinting since her glasses were safely tucked in her suit. "I'll be back momentarily, appearing more Presidential."

"Yes, Ma'am." Roslin had disappeared before Starbuck had time to turn around. She heard a noise, people running down the hall. Two medics and an out of breath Doc Cottle came around the corner. "Where is he?"

Thrace pointed up, "Through there, down the air duct 50 feet, make a left and into some knuckle draggers quarters."

Cottle looked at her with disbelief, "You have got to be kidding."

Thrace shook her head, "No."

Cottle picked up the comm phone, "Get me a ladder. ASAP." He hung the phone back, sucking in another breath. "Condense the gear." He turned to Thrace, "Any ideas as to what his condition is?" He asked firing up a cigarette.

"The President…"

Cottle's brow raised slightly, "Roslin?" Starbuck nodded, "She came through here?" His admiration for the old girl went up another notch. _She's got spirit._

"Yes. She stated he had significant blood loss from an injury on his right side, stated may have some internal bleeding."

"Any idea how long it took her to get here?"

"No, I didn't ask…" Thrace suddenly feeling dumb for sending Roslin away. _Who the Frak cares if she doesn't look Presidential?_

Cottle shook his head as he took another drag off his cigarette, "We'll go with 40 minutes. Pack…" He began spouting the medical supplies to off load and two men came scurrying to meet them with a ladder.

They popped it up, Cottle putting his cigarette out as he quickly clamored to the vent, "50 feet and then left." He climbed in, "Adama's got to get someone to clean these." He mumbled, two medics quickly following him with the gear.

Their heads disappeared as the deck gangs arrived. Thrace set them to work on what and where they needed to clear. Schematics littered the walls as the teams quickly determined how to by-pass the exposed part of the Galactica and get to the Admiral. Four bulkheads. Torches were lit within minutes, Thrace standing to the side fingers idly twisting her ring. _Gods she felt helpless. _Tigh arrived as they finished cutting through the first bulkhead, three more to go. "How long did it take for the first bulkhead?"

"Ten minutes." Thrace watched as the men efficiently grabbed their gear and scurried over to the next bulkhead. Torches were lit in under a minute, and President Roslin's footsteps graced their ears. "Any news?" She asked, in her burgundy suit, hair still damp but the grim gone as she drew up next to the Colonel.

"No Ma'am. Haven't heard from Cottle or the medics." Thrace answered Roslin's next question, "Four bulkheads between us and the Admiral. One is down, working on the second. Approximately 10 minutes per bulkhead."

Roslin couldn't help but smile as she noticed the ladder, "Wish I had one of those a little while ago."

"Ma'am, if you don't mind me asking, what happened?" Thrace asked, Tigh patiently waiting for her answer too.

Roslin glanced at the air vent, _Thrace was right, she had been filthy – actually she looked like a picture out of one of her history books – an old coal miner._ Her mind traipsing through the last hour, _has it only been an hour? A lot can happen in an hour_, she mused_, thinking of how close she and Bill had come to being space debris, how wonderful his arms felt around her, the feel of his lips…_she stopped the thought. _Right now I'm the President of the Colonies and your Admiral is seriously injured. Hmm…my Admiral…that has a nice ring to it._ "We were talking in the corridor when the call came in regarding the Cylon attack. On our way to CIC, the bulkhead buckled." She coughed for a moment, covering the fact she almost called him Bill to his crew, "The Admiral directed me to the crew quarters…" Roslin continued telling the story, with constant internal reminders _Admiral, not Bill; no facial expression – keep the politicians face on; extricate the worry from my voice…_

_------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

The forth bulkhead dropped down, the crew spraying water to quickly cool the edges of the bulkhead. Steam billowing through the new pass through, "Are we clear?" Came Cottle's crotchety voice.

"Yes, Sir."

"On my mark – two, one, mark." The medics and Cottle, signs of the same grime Laura just washed off, came rushing through the makeshift hallway with Adama on a stretcher. His skin pale white, blood still seeping through the surgical stitches. Tigh, Roslin and Thrace fell in step around the stretcher. "Is he going to make it?" Tigh asked, half panicked as he looked at his long time friend.

Cottle continued his sprint walk, "He has three broken ribs," He sucked in a breath, _I'm getting to old for this._ "He's lost a lot of blood, he's in shock, and I won't know if he has any internal bleeding until we get him to the med-lab." Cottle threw Roslin a look, "Considering, that was a nice dressing Ma'am."

"Thank you." Roslin felt a small bit a pride swell through her chest, after all, it wasn't often Cottle praised people.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_**24 hours later **_

Tory knocked on Adama's quarters, until she heard a faint reply. "Come in."

She stepped through the hatch, the President diligently working behind the Admiral's desk. "Tory," She looked over her glasses, "Can you distribute these to the noted Captains, and Colonel Tigh?" She handed her a stack of papers.

"Yes, Ma'am." She stated, tucking the papers under her arm.

"Also, if you would set up a press conference in the Ward Room in two hours. I would like to shed some lit on recent events." Roslin scribbled some more notes down, handing the paper to Tory. "That will be the topics covered at the news conference."

Tory scanned the list, eyebrows raised, "I doubt the Caprican delegate is going to appreciate the news brief."

"That's what they get for re-instating me. The truth, Tory." Roslin began sifting through her paperwork, Tory quickly exited realizing she had several thinks to do within the next two hours. As the hatch closed behind her, Laura pulled her glasses off, relaxing for a moment, fingers idly playing with on old metal lighter with Joseph Adama etched on the side. _His father, perhaps?_ She looked around the room, it still had a slightly disheveled look from the attack, but she had managed to put up most of the books that littered the floor when she entered his sanctuary last night.

Laura had stopped here because it was on her way to her quarters, and she wanted – needed to feel his presence. Her guards took post at the hatch as she entered, she on the other hand, merely stood on the other side of the closed hatch – mildly disturbed. His cabin was in a state much like its owner, out of sorts. Books askew on the shelf, papers from the desk to the hatch, pillow on the floor – she couldn't help the man, Cottle was diligently attending to him; however, she could help out his sanctuary. She carefully took off her shoes, relishing the feeling of his old rug on her tired feet. Thoughtfully, she began straightening his quarters, treasuring each book she erected on the shelf, mementos back in an up-righted position, all the while – getting to know the mysterious man a little more.

A semblance of normalcy began to return; she decided to return to her quarters, not wanting to further intrude. However, upon entering her scant metal room, she quickly changed her mind. _He was in med lab, surely he wouldn't mind if she stayed there tonight. Besides, her productivity would be higher in a comfortable environment._ She rationalized as she grabbed a change of clothes and her toiletries, _And since her notes are floating in space regarding our priorities – his should be in that mess of papers._ No more rationalization was needed, she returned to his quarters.

She rifled through his notes, finding their compromised list of priorities and she began to make notes across his papers – not having the time to re-write them. _We are all ready a day behind_, she thought scratching a few more thoughts down. Then she noticed one of his reports, information regarding Mr. Napir – the Caprican delegate, the pilot from the Gamgee and their role in the riots.

_How many of these reports has he been keeping from me? _She began feeling hurt at his lack of trust, when she noticed the date on the report. It was yesterday afternoon, during the crisis. _Not lack of trust_, she thought feeling reprieved, _lack of time._

She grabbed his stack of reports, walking toward his rack. Laying the reports down, she pulled on a nightshirt and crawled into his rack breathing in deeply, savoring his scent. She curled around one pillow, propping her head on the other as she pulled the reports in front of her. Within minutes her glasses lay on the edge of the reports, and a soft snore escaping her lips. Exhaustion had claimed Laura Roslin, and for the first time since the holocaust – she felt safe enough to truly sleep.


	10. 10 Catnap

**Chapter 10 Catnap**

She smiled fondly at his rack, _that's the first time in a year she felt as though she had truly slept._ Sighing, she turned her attention back to her work, but her eyes wouldn't focus. Thankfully, the receiver rang. She picked it up, "Madame President," It was Cottles' voice, "You asked to be informed. The Admiral is beginning to regain consciousness."

"Thank you Doctor." She hung up the receiver. _Thank the gods! _She couldn't help the smile from creeping across her face. She gathered her materials she would need for her press conference, enabling her to visit Bill for a short time.

She didn't feel her feet touch the floor all the way to the med lab, and she had a frak of a time keeping her politician's mask in place.

Cottle motioned her into Adama's room, Lee sitting next to his father. He smiled up at her when she entered, "Hello, Ma'am."

"Commander." She nodded. _He looks tired,_ she thought as he stood.

"Will you be here for an hour?" He asked hopefully. "I need a shower, and check in with the CIC on the Pegasus."

"Not quite," She touched his shoulder in sympathy, "but as close to it as I can make it, I have a press conference to attend."

Lee's smile brightened, "Better you than me."

"And here I thought you were my friend." She retorted.

Lee paused a moment, "Thank you for saving my father's life." His voice cracking as his eyes misted over.

Laura reached over, embracing the Commander in a hug, "It's the least I could do after he saved me from becoming space debris." She pulled away, "He'll be fine, Commander."

Lee's face twitched a bit, "Thanks." He left as she sat next to Bill.

His color was still pale, but in comparison, he looked much better. "You know Bill," She pulled her reports up, "I think you intentionally allowed yourself to be hit, so you could grab some rack time."

"I..." He coughed, she leaned forward grasping his hand. "couldn't help…tired." He tried smiling, but a series of coughs ensued.

She turned her head, "Doc Cottle." Roslin brushed her hand through his hair before resting it on his arm when Cottle came in.

"How you feeling?"

"Like I was almost sucked out an air lock." He said between breaths.

"Good." Cottle mumbled, "It's the least you could feel like, since I had to go crawling through what you call an air duct – I'd call a dust haven." He lifted the sheet, checking the wound.

"How bad?" Bill's breathing was ragged with each word.

"You got lucky, Admiral. Three broken ribs, your lung was only bruised the internal bleeding stopping without additional surgery. I'd prefer you rest for the next couple days, but…" Cottle's fingers deftly pulled a cigarette from his lapel, "seeing as that isn't going to happen, limit your on duty hours to no more than 2 per 6 hour cycle. No sudden movements and no extra-curricular activities. Work and your quarters." He stepped toward the door, "And Admiral, good to see you awake."

Cottle left the President and Admiral alone, firing up his cigarette. He wasn't sure what the nature of their relationship was, he didn't even want to guess. However, he was sure of one thing, they were no longer at each other's throats. And that, was a good thing – for everyone.

Bill turned his head toward her, "Laura," He closed his cobalt eyes, taking a deep – shaky breath. "Thank you."

She tightened her fingers around his hand, he lightly returned the pressure. "So, how far along did your strategy plans come along?" She asked light-heartedly.

He cracked one twinkling eye, smile trying to curl its way along his lips. "Far enough."

She brought his hand up to her lips, "Bill…" She couldn't finish.

He squeezed her hand, "Me too." He mumbled.

She glanced at the wall, "I've got a press conference in 10 minutes."

Adama forced his eyes to stay open, "I received some reports you need to read…"

Her heart warmed at his words, _definitely not trying to hide anything. _ "No need. Hope you don't mind, but I crashed in your quarters last night. And while looking for your notes on our priority list, I perused your reports."

"I'm out of commission for less than 24 hours and your all ready moving in – making yourself at home." Bill felt his heart jump at the thought of Laura making herself at home in his quarters. He loved the sound of that.

She leaned in, voice barely a whisper – her breath hot on his ear, "I missed you."

His eyes misted over, "I'm not going anywhere."

She kissed his hand again, letting it go as she wiped a stray tear away, "You better not."

"Enjoy your press conference."

"In comparison to Teryan Napir and Captain Swill; I believe I will." She stated mischievously, "I've also asked the Colonel to temporarily assign a pilot to fly the Gamgee until we can find a suitable replacement."

Adama nodded, "Need to find a replacement soon."

"I agree." She stood, if she didn't leave this instant, she'd be late. "We don't have many pilots to protect the Fleet, let alone play chauffer on a civilian vessel." Laura permitted a shy smile to spread across her face, "I'll be back in a bit."

"In sweats or one your suits?" He retorted.

Roslin stopped half way through the door, "I'd say sweats, but someone's suppose to requisition them for me."

XXXXXX

Baltar steadied his hands, quickly reading the passenger manifests – looking for any children under the age of two. Three were on the Rising Star; Two on the Gamgee; One on Colonial One; Four…frantically he began scribbling down the information.

"Hurry up Gauis." Six's breath hot on his neck.

"You aren't helping, darling."

"Just trying to remind you of the repercussions if you are caught." Her body pressing into his back, blonde hair dangling against his face.

Baltar swallowed, hard. His body immediately responding to her presence, "Ughh..mhhmm. Dear, if you want me to get caught, stay where you are."

Six ran her finger along his neck, "That isn't part of God's plan." She remarked demurely.

"Right." He flipped to the next page. "God's plan, again."

"Don't be ungrateful, Gauis. God has shown you mercy. Remember that." She stepped away from him, red dress trailing in her wake.

He closed his small notepad, returning the manifests to their original location. "Being humiliated, that is how your God shows his mercy."

"Your still alive Gauis."

Shoving the pad in his jacket pocket, "And when I find our child?" His voice dropped, "What is God's plan then?"

XXXX 

Bill carefully shuffled to his quarters, his body acutely aware of each movement. As crewmen stood at attention while he walked by, he didn't have the energy to salute back – he merely nodded in acknowledgement. His escort opened his hatch, "Thank...you." He breathed out, stepping through.

He paused, letting his sanctuary wash over him and he noticed a few differences. Obviously, his quarters had been mildly disturbed during the attack, but someone…_Laura, _a smile spreading across his face, picked part of his quarters up. He noticed her writing scribbled across his notes and reports. _Nothing like making yourself at home_. Her notes elaborating his, _Not that he minded in the slightest._ Then he noticed his father's lighter, setting a top a small stack of papers. Picking up the lighter, he headed toward the cabinet – finding the treasure hidden inside. Ambrosia. He poured himself a small drink, hoping to take the edge off the pain.

He glanced to his rack, the sheets slightly askew. _Did she…?_ He polished off his drink, covering the distance in a few short, labored strides. His smile broadened and he bent over to pick up her neatly folded nightshirt. _She did._

Sitting down, he carefully returned her shirt to the foot of his rack. He needed to get to CIC, but his side ached with abandon and the excursion of getting dressed, and the walk to his quarters wiped him out. _A few minutes won't hurt._ Lifting his foot, first he undid one boot and then the other. Out of breath, he collapsed onto his rack – her soft perfume filling his senses. With what little energy remained, he yanked the sheet over him – his thoughts occupied by images of his President, and all the ways he wanted to show her how much she meant to him.

XXXX

The press conference had gone on forever, _three hours – forever, same thing._ Tory followed her, giving her a stack of reports from the past four hours. _Why can't these things stop coming for just a few hours? _She wondered, heading toward the med lab.

"Tory, I'm going to visit the Admiral for a few moments and bring him up to speed."

"Yes, Ma'am." Tory knew better than to interfere with her schedule regarding her meetings with Adama. She couldn't put her finger on it, and she didn't want to. Roslin was the President, Adama was the Admiral – as far as she was concerned that is all the further she wanted to delve into their unique relationship.

"I'll see you in the Ward Room in 2 hours, and thank you for arranging the press conference."

"Thank you Ma'am. See you in 2 hours." Tory turned and headed the other direction, Roslin continued to the med lab.

XXXXXX

His entry way was lit, and as she surveyed his quarters she noticed the empty glass on his desk. _Probably needed a drink to help with the pain. _And then she heard ragged breathing, squinting, she noticed his form curled on his rack. Slipping off her shoes, she padded softly to the edge of his rack.

Instinctively she ran her hand along the side of his face, "Wanna lay down?" He mumbled, sleep lining his gravely voice.

Removing her glasses, she took in the Admiral's appearance, "Can't. I have meeting to attend in an hour and a half, don't want my suit wrinkled."

He cracked an eye open, "Someone left a shirt at the end of the bed. You are welcome to it."

Her cheeks reddened, "I…" Clearing her throat, as she changed the subject, "Need me to help you out of your uniform?"

"No. I don't feel like moving right now. Too tired." His breathing had quickened. Cottle had told Adama about the ribs, the stitches, a small cut – but they didn't tell him about the small puncture his right lung suffered. It had sealed on its own, without requiring surgery, but he was going to be in discomfort for some time. And it was showing. Laura's heart tore. _He trusts you_, she thought. _He would never permit anyone to see him this weak, not even Lee. _

"Conference went long." He mumbled, trying to stay awake.

"Yeah, three hours long." She reached over, discreetly picking up the nightshirt. "I'll be right back, just going to use the head." She disappeared before he had time to respond.

Her fingers were shaking as she unbuttoned her suit, carefully hanging it back up after she donned her nightshirt. _What are you thinking? _She glanced in the mirror, _Just remembering what I'm living for_, she responded as she opened the door.

His soft snore ceased with the creak of the door, "Wasn't long."

She came to the edge of the bed before speaking, "Can you move over?" His sleep induced brain registered her words, forcing his eyes open. An angel standing before him. The short-sleeved shirt had a low scoop neck, and stopped mid thigh. His gaze traveled up her long legs and then to her face. There was no point in denying it, _he was in love with Laura Roslin_.

He pushed himself over, trying not to grimace as he made room for his angel. "Enough?" He asked, breathing labored.

She climbed into the rack, next to him. Immediately feeling at peace. His arm snaked around her torso, pulling her into his chest. "Your beautiful." His words rippled across her auburn hair.

She snuggled into the crook of his arm, his warmth spreading through her. "Perfect." She mumbled.

"An hour and a half?" His voice was soft, directly above her ear.

"Give or take."

"If I my side didn't feel like a Cylon punching bag, and I wasn't so fraking tired – I believe we could find other ways to occupy the time." He settled his head beside her, taking deep breaths of her floral scent. It was intoxicating.

He could hear her smile in return, "First things first…Admiral." She craned her neck around, to see his face, "Until then," She moved a bit more to place a soft kiss on his lips, "I need you to get well." She cuddled back into his embrace, snuggling into the crook of his arm.

"All the incentive I need is lying in my arms." He replied.

She felt his grip loosen, as his breathing became more rhythmic – _he's all ready asleep._ She laid there, listening to him – drawing strength from his presence. She felt herself nod off a few times, and after an undetermined length of time, she carefully extricated herself from him. As much as Laura Roslin wished to stay snuggled in bed, with her soon to be lover, the President of the Colonies had a meeting to attend.

She finished scratching a note on the desk, before throwing a final glance back at the sleeping form of William Adama, and then Laura felt herself slip away as she righted her shoulders – checking her suit again, the President exited the Admiral's hatch counting the minutes until Laura could visit Bill again.


	11. 11 Dinner Plans

**Chapter 11 Dinner Plans**

Adama reached for a report, and fought to keep the shake from his hand. _It is past time to leave_, he thought as he pulled it to him. Glancing up, Tigh's eyes knowingly caught his. "I'll have the rest of the duty shift reports sent to your quarters."

"Thank you." Adama paused, "Have Mr. Gaeta report to my quarters at 1730 hours."

"Yes Sir." Tigh responded while he watched the Admiral's jaw clench as he made his way off of CIC. Tigh noted the time, Gaeta would be reporting on shift in 10 minutes. Tigh would make sure to send Gaeta as soon as he reported on shift, because Tigh doubted Adama would be awake until 1730. Besides, if he sent him as soon as Gaeta arrived on shift, Adama could rest for half an hour before dinner.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Adama wiped the sweat from his brow as he closed the hatch. He'd had broken ribs before and bruising, but this was bordering on beyond discomfort. He eyed the bottle on his desk, tempted to take some pain medication to alleviate the constant throb. _It can wait._ He thought, pouring a small glass of Ambrosia. Gingerly, he lowered himself into his desk chair, noticing a small hand scrawled note. Taking a sip of Ambrosia, a tender smile graced his face as his eyes absorbed her words.

Back soon. I could use another catnap. Laura

p.s. Don't be stubborn, Take your pills.

Sighing, he picked up the bottle and popped the top off, removing one from the container. Twirling the blue pill around his hand, his eyes reverting back to the note, _stubborn._ _Yes, he was._ Flipping the pill into his mouth, he chased it with the remainder of the Ambrosia. _But, perhaps she had a point, at least for a few days. He needed to be able to work with a clear head, and he'd like to spend some quality time with her – without being in unbearable pain._

A knock reconnoitered his thoughts. "Come." He stated, gently taking her note and placing it in the upper right drawer, joining two halves of a broken pencil.

Mr. Gaeta stepped through the hatch, in his hands a mammoth stack of reports. Adama glanced at the clock, "You are early, Mr. Gaeta."

The Lieutenant stopped, "Sir?"

_Tigh must have noticed my fatigue_, "Are those the duty reports?"

"Yes, Sir." He took the necessary steps to hand the reports to Adama, who intern gestured to the seat at the side of the desk.

"The three jump sequence."

"Yes, Sir. I didn't have time to inform all the captains regarding the prep sequences."

He laid the reports down, turning his full attention on the young man. "I am aware of that. We need to be proactive for the time being, and not wait for the Cylon fleet to find us. We don't have the manpower, nor the resources at this time." _Granted, _he mused,_ they were beginning to recover their military manpower. They were 70 staffed._ "The 3 jump sequence, is it sill viable or does it need updated?"

"It is viable, however, we would be backtracking across Sector 303.1."

A wave of pain jolted through him, and Adama's eyes fluttered close as he was forced to pause until it passed.

"Sir?" Gaeta was becoming concerned, as the pause lengthened. "Should I get Doc Cottle?" His heart began to hammer in his chest, until his soft, struggling voice broke the silence.

"Won't be necessary, Lieutenant." Reopening his cobalt eyes, fixing on Gaeta. "Those are just the tactics I am looking to employ."

Gaeta refocused his attention on the Admiral._ Tactics? Backtracking…of course._

"The Cylons wouldn't expect it."

"Correct. I would like to have those coordinates disseminated immediately to the Captains."

"Right away, Sir. Anything else?"

The Admiral's eyes bore into the young man's, "Yes, Mr. Gaeta. You are not to discuss those coordinates with anyone except the CAG, XO, Dee, the Commander and the Fleet Captains. Please inform the Fleet Captains the need for secrecy. Then prepare a two jump sequence from our ending coordinates, taking us to Astral Body M8."

Gaeta's eyes widened. "Sir, what if the Cylons know about that Astal Body and are planning a trap?"

"That'll be all, Lieutenant." Adama's hardened voice told Gaeta the conversation was over and not open for discussion.

He stood, saluted and headed for the door. "Lieutenant, that includes Mr. Baltar. Not a word."

"Understood, Sir." He vanished through the hatch.

Adama began reading the casualty reports from the Cylon attack, _too many_. They lost 3 pilots, 46 of the deck crew, 6 civilians and 103 persons were injured, including him.

The hatch opened, and an exhausted President stepped through.

"You look like I feel."

Her red head snapped up, and a measure of the fatigue seemed to lift from her face. "I'm hoping that isn't a compliment." She rested her hand on the door, picking off her shoes. "Better." She mumbled under her breath, setting her heals beside the couch.

He watched her elegantly remove her shoes, "You look exhausted."

She feigned a smile, "Told you," She gave up on decorum as she flopped on his couch, letting her head fall back, "I could use a catnap."

"Dinner first?"

"Mmmm," She set her glasses in her lap, "I'm tempted to refuse." She stated, finally lifting her head to take in his face.

"Then you'll have to crash in your temporary quarters for a bit." He continued as her eyebrows shot up a bit, "Lee, Dee, Kara, Saul and Ellen are coming."

Laura's face spoke volumes, "Are you sure you are up to dealing with Ellen?"

Hands on the desk, he used the leverage to stand. "Oh, Bill…" He grabbed the flask of water and two glasses. "You didn't need." She moved her legs, giving him enough space to sit beside her. _Perhaps sit was a bit strong, _she chuckled internally as he flopped on the couch too.

"No, but thought we could use a drink." He handed her a glass.

"Water?"

"I'm saving my Ambrosia intake for Ellen. Or for as far as Saul is concerned, you." He stated, sipping the cool liquid.

"Me?"

"Something about headstrong, and your enough to give anyone a headache if in your company for too long." She was about to retort, when he interrupted, "He does, however, respect you." At that, her argument died, "And trust you. Coming from Saul, those are potent compliments."

"Mind?" She indicated propping her legs on his lap. He subtly shook his head, and she leaned her head back while unfolding her legs, arm draped on back of the couch clutching the remaining of her water, "How is the re-enlistment?" Her mind marveling how natural this felt.

Adama stifled a yawn, "Dinner?"

"It depends on the time." A shake was entering her voice, "I'm really tired. Staying up all night, an argument, a Cylon attack, press conferences, other presidential duties and a four hour sleep cycle within the last – Gods know how long." She thought,_ referring to the resistance and the evacuation plans of New Caprica._

"And you were giving me problems about getting some rack time?"

Concentrating she pulled her head up, sipping some more water, "That's because you weren't sharing."

"20 minutes." He stated, glancing at the clock, it was 1730 now. "So they will begin arriving in 15."

"Enough time to bore myself with reports, but no nap." Laura closed her eyes for a moment, finding some inner reserves.

"We are up to 70." He stated, setting his glass down as his fingers gently massaged the back of her calves.

"That feels nice." She mumbled, "I'm guessing you'll be close to capacity within the next 72 hours."

"How so?" He spent an extra second in a spot until her scrunched up nose dissipated.

"It is all over talk wireless. Ordering a massive staff relocation to the Galactica due to lack of personnel, enabling one Battlestar to defend the Civilian Fleet. Courage, Bravery…" She opened her grey eyes, fixing on his blue one, "Some may say stupidity. But you did what needed to be done to ensure our survival, even if it would be the cost of the Galactica –" Mist threatening to spill off the corners, "Even if it meant you."

"That's not what I intended."

"And the Fleet knows that you didn't believe 3 Cylon basestars would fixate on us so quickly. But they also know, that you made the call to ensure everyone is still here today."

"Well, we paid for it." The pain of his men's death evident in his voice as it washed over him.

"I saw the report." Smiling, she brushed the side of his face, "It could have been

worse. You saw the report from the Colonel regarding the FTL drive and it not initially spooling up after the Fleet was away."

He nodded gravelly, "And we could have lost the President of the Colonies."

"Or the Admiral of the Fleet."

A sad smile encased their faces, _So close. How many more of those do we have left before, we can't say that? _She finished covering the distance between them, sweet, moist, giving lips gently meeting each other. _Their haven._

Resting her head on his forehead, "Dinner, huh?"

"Yeah. But a nap sounds better." Tired eyes pierced exhausted ones.

Sighing, she slipped her glasses on, stood up, with her hand out. He grasped it with his left hand, gingerly standing. "At some point this evening, I'll need to go to my quarters."

He walked, her arm tucked in his. "Hold on." He labored his way to the hatch, the 2 security officers standing at attention outside, "Gentlemen, you have the evening off. The President is joining the Command staff for dinner this evening, and afterwards, I'll have someone escort her to her quarters."

The head of security looked pass Adama, "Ma'am, what time will you be returning to your quarters, so I can have a detail waiting."

Roslin waved her hand, "The Admiral is having a Marine contingent watch my quarters this evening. Can you meet me here at 0700? We have a meeting slated for 0600, and I will be going to the Ward Room at 0700 for my morning briefing with Tory."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Enjoy your evening, Gentlemen." She smiled at them as Adama closed the hatch. "Good one." She stated as he approached.

"Wanted to help with your nap."

"Then discontinue the use of reports." She sat in the chair Gaeta recently occupied.

"That would need to be a Colonial law," He picked up the stack Gaeta brought in, "One the military will be all to happy to comply with." He looked at the clock 15 minutes. "Well," The Admiral stated resigned, "The more we get through before dinner, the less we have to do after."

Her head tipped enough so she could look at him, without her glasses in the way. "Do you think my stack of reports are going to prevent me from hitting the rack as soon as everyone leaves?" She asked deadpanned.

Bill's eyebrow raised ever so slightly as edged a hair's breath closer to her, "Yes." He stated seriously, "Because for better or worse, you are the President. And you want what's best for the Fleet, even at your expense."

She flinched, knowing he was right, but she didn't expect him to be so honest. _Or did she? _ She wondered. "And you?" _Better to re-direct. _

_Cat and mouse, _his eyes glistened, _some things will never change. Of that he was for certain. _"Only one hour after the guests leave." Crystal blue eyes bored into misty grey ones.

"Deal." She stated as she headed to the couch for their water glasses and bottle. She poured them some more, before immersing herself in the Fleet's business. Bill was jotting notes down on some reports, and once done, he would slide it to her stack and vice versa.

They hardly noticed the cooks' entrance, nor the delivery of the meal. Both were steadfastly determined to punch through as many reports before dinner as possible.

"Dad?" Lee's voice echoes in the cabin, followed by his scruffy features. Lee stopped when he saw the President and the Admiral pouring over piles of reports. "Are we early?" He asked, Dualla coming up beside him.

The Admiral finished his thought, cursing at the amount of reports still remaining. Outwardly, he smiled, and pushed himself to a standing position. "No, the President and I have several unresolved issues."

Lee nodded. He knew his father's brief absence put a hiccup in the Fleet's forward progress, especially with the military. He just wished, 'the Old Man', wouldn't push himself so hard. "Of course. Re-supply?"

The President gracefully stood, "Among several other things. None of which need to occupy this evenings dinner conversation," she stated eyes leveled at the Commander.

"Ahh. Yes, Ma'am." Lee wasn't sure where that look came from, _Perhaps, they have been butting heads this afternoon. Probably better to let it rest._

Bill patted Lee on the shoulder, "Ellen will be here."

No further explanation was needed. Lee and Dualla responded at the same time, "Of course."

The hatch opened again, Kara stepping through, Lee's face caught a moment. Bill began walking toward the table, noticing Starbuck looked as tired as Roslin, "Just finish rotation?"

She stifled a yawn. "Yes, Sir." Looking over the table at beverage options, "Any

coffee?"

"Here." Dualla stated.

"Thanks." She poured a gracious amount in a cup. "Gaeta stated…"

"Not now Kara." Lee interrupted, and finished before she had to retort. "Ellen."

Kara couldn't help the slight slack her shoulders took. Her eyes pleading with the Admiral, _I pulled two 20 hour shifts to have dinner with Ellen._

"Bill." The door flew open, Ellen in a mystic blue dress. "It is so good to see you up and about." She stated, coming over and planting a kiss on his cheek. Her smile almost faltered when she turned and saw Roslin, "Laura. You are having dinner with us too." She bent over, giving her a hug. Roslin nodded politely, "Yes, the Admiral and I were working until just a few moments ago, and he graciously asked if I would like to join."

"How wonderful." Ellen's voice rang through the cabin, grating on everyone's nerves except the XO. "Saul told me the Galactica sustained heavy damage."

The rest of the 'family' sat down, every person echoing the same thought. _Great. An evening of fishing with Ellen._ Bill reached for the Ambrosia, pouring himself an ample glass full, "Would you like some?" He directed to Laura. She paused for a moment, only a moment – _Bill might have the right thought on how to deal with Ellen, Ambrosia._ "Thank you." She gave him her glass, once full; he passed the bottle to Lee, who like his father topped his glass off and why not…_it was going to be a long night dodging her fishing explorations._

A/N: Thank you for your reviews, they are very much appreciated! Hope you enjoyed this nugget.


	12. 12 Clean Up

**Chapter 12 Clean-up**

The Admiral didn't bother to stifle his yawn, he was tired and still had work to do. "It has been a wonderful evening, I thank you all for coming."

Saul and Ellen bid their farewells, and as soon as the hatch closed, everyone let out a sigh of relief. "How can he live with her?" Lee asked pulling a few glasses onto the tray.

"Admiral," Kara held out her hand, eyes quietly pleading with Lee and Dualla. "We've got this. You and the President finish your reports, so you can grab some rack time."

"Yeah, Dad." Lee piped up, "We'll even try and be quiet."

"Thank you." Laura stated placing her glass on the tray, "That is very courteous."

"While I have each of you here," Bill finished his Ambrosia, "Before dinner Kara mentioned Mr. Gaeta. He will be speaking with you regarding a three system jump sequence we will be executing on our next jump. I am restricting that information to the Command Staff only and the Captains of the Fleet."

"Three jumps?" Laura questioned, "Are they back to back? Our are we coordinating at each jump? And what is the purpose to a 3 jump sequence?"

"The primary purpose is distance, and we need to alter our tactics. The Cylons have become accustomed to our jumps or at least an average of the distance one of our jumps entail. If we tie three jumps together, our distance is far greater from our initial starting point and it would not be something the Cylons expect."

"Can the FTL drives on the civilian ships handle three jumps with no down time?" Kara asked.

"Yes." The Commander responded, "While orbiting New Caprica, we had time to re-fit all the FTL drives. Unless a drive fails, it shouldn't be a problem."

"But you're worried about Cylon infiltrators discovering we are tying multiple jumps together." Roslin directed to the Admiral.

He allowed his eyes to lock onto hers, for right now he was the Admiral and she was the President. "And Cylon collaborators."

The Admiral's words brought silence to the room. Collaborators. There were several people who willingly helped the Cylons on New Caprica, and they knew who some were – but not all. And this was an issue that needed immediate attention, but probably wouldn't be dealt with on a Fleet wide basis until next week. There were just too many other high priority items.

"Perhaps they won't find out." Dualla stated hopefully.

Kara set a few more dishes on the tray, "The best way to ensure they don't discover us tying jumps together, mix it up."

Adama smiled at Thrace, "Precisely. However, the next jump will be 2 jumps into Astral Body M8."

"Astral Body M8." Roslin repeated, wanting to verify she heard him correctly.

"Yes."

"Admiral, shouldn't we be concerned about a possible Cylon offensive being staged within the Astral Body?" Lee asked mildly concerned.

"Perhaps, but lets deal with what's on our plate now, before we worry about Astral Body M8."

"Its only 2 jumps away, that isn't far." Lee felt aggravated at his father's seemingly lack of interest in a potential ambush that could destroy the Fleet and the last shreds of humanity.

The Admiral stood up, eyes momentarily locking on Lee. "Far enough, son. Far enough." With that, the Admiral headed to his desk leaving silence in his wake. Roslin following him, and as they sat down respectively on opposite sides of his desk to finish their woeful stack of paperwork – the other three occupants quickly pulling the glassware from dinner together to take down to the galley.

The Admiral and President quietly exchanged reports, his writing scrawling across her reports and hers across his.

"Sir," The Admiral glanced up, to see Kara's face. "Thanks for having me over." He smiled, through the fatigue. "My pleasure, to have all of you over." All three nodded as they picked up the trays, "And thank you for cleaning up."

Dee, Lee, and Kara laughed and stated no problem, asking him to invite Saul and not Ellen next time – which elicited another round of laughter and pleading from all.

"Good night." He stated, ending further conversation regarding Ellen.

Roslin stated it was good to see them all, and thanked them for their hospitality as good nights were exchanged. As the door to the hatch sealed, Roslin set her pen down, "They do have a point in regards to Ellen."

Bill glanced over his glasses, "Yes, but it would be so boring if I didn't invite her."

Laura couldn't help her eyes roll, "If that is the sole reason…"

He smiled as he returned his attention to the fuel consumption report, "No, not the sole reason. I cannot invite Saul to dinner without Ellen, it would be a slap in his face. Even if she is difficult to deal with, she is still married to the man."

"I trust her as much as I trust Baltar." She stated, picking up her pen and returning her attention to the ship by ship resource reports.

"Glad we are in agreement."

"Any idea where she picked up the piece of information regarding Hera?"

Adama stopped reading, giving Roslin his full attention. "No. But it definitely caused some worry as to where and how she heard rumors of Hera."

"Me too." She pulled her glasses off. "When she stated she heard the Cylon child had lived and was somewhere within the Fleet, I almost choked on my salad."

A gentle smile crossed Adama's face as he reached up under his glasses, rubbing his tired eyes. "Probably good you didn't, that might have been obvious." He re-adjusted his glasses trying to focus his eyes on Roslin. He was too tired. "Besides, I felt my heart stop when she mentioned it and my throat felt like a dessert – it was fortuitous that I was in the process of having some Ambrosia."

"Well, I would have never guessed with your flawless response." A smile spread across her face as she thought back to Ellen's reaction to Bill's priceless response.

_"I heard a rumor while coming back on the Rising Star, that the Cylon's child lived. Can you imagine?" Ellen laughed as her eyes remained glued on the Admiral._

_Adama finished taking a drink of his Ambrosia as he turned to face Ellen, "That would be a miracle. I saw the report from Doc Cottle and the child died from her under-developed lungs. Sharon and Helo spread her ashes in space."_

_She giggled, "Bill, come on. We are all family. You can tell us if Sharon's child lived."_

_Adama nonchalantly set his glass down on the table, "The child's ashes are floating through space Ellen. You swallowed a half-baked rumor."_

_Ellen's eyes almost popped out of her head at his comment, but she recovered in an instant, moving on to the next fishing topic. "Well, since we abandoned New Caprica, which of course we should have done months before we did – when will we be arriving at Earth?"_

_Kara piped up, "Hard to say, it will depend on how many more New Caprica's we frequent on the journey."_

"That is the story I've believed for the past 15 months." He braced his arms as he stood, "So I thought it might work." He finished gently. "I'm going to lay down for a bit."

Laura stood up, "Mind if I join you?"

He held out his hand in response, with a warm smile, she took it as they headed to his cabin. "Want to use the head first?"

"No, please go ahead. I don't want you to have to sit down and get back up." He nodded, releasing her hand as he steered to his closet.

"I placed a requisition today for a few sweats and shirts." He began unbuttoning his jacket.

Laura stepped over to him, and replaced his hands with hers. He watched as she finished unbuttoning his jacket, and then carefully helped him slip it off. She hung up his jacket in the closet, and then her hands slid under his t-shirt and tank causing goosebumps up his skin. Carefully, she helped him take his shirts off, helping him to limit his torso movement. And…she loved the feel of his skin against her hands. She paused taking a look at his dressing.

"How's it look?" He asked as she inspected his side, his skin still tingling from her touch.

"When do you see Cottle next?" She asked standing up within inches from him.

"In the morning." He whispered. "Still leaking through?"

"Yes. Not much, but your side is definitely still seeping. It went through the bandages and into your tank."

Bill's left hand slowly traced the right side of Laura's face, his thumb brushing across her cheekbone and down her jaw and neckline. "Cottle stated it would take a few days before it stopped."

"Hmmm. What do you sleep in when you aren't passed out in your uniform?" She asked leaning into him, disintegrating the small space. Their lips met and curved into the familiar response – gentle, testing, tasting. His lips and tongue slowly asking her to allow him entry – her lips willingly complying.

Laura pulled away, desire pulsing through her – _it is going to be a long couple weeks, _she thought as she stared into his crystal eyes. _For both of us. _

He smiled, "I normally don't wear a shirt, but until my side stops seeping, it might be prudent." He grabbed a shirt from his closet and a pair of shorts, planted a soft kiss on her lips and entered the head.

Laura took the opportunity to change while he was in the head, hanging her suit in his closet. When he stepped out, he paused for a moment as he took her in, "You have gorgeous legs."

Laura could feel herself blush, Richard never use to compliment her so openly. "Thank you." She stammered.

Bill smiled and knew better than to push, he didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable. Laura disappeared into the head for a few minutes as Bill took another one of Cottle's pills, picked up her glasses, and turned off the lights in the cabin except the lone one by the bed. He set Laura's and his glasses next the lamp as she stepped out of the head. She smiled when she noticed that he had picked up her glasses and laid them next to his by the lamp.

He pulled the covers back, "Preference on side?"

"I'm so tired…" At his raised eyebrows, she amended her answer, "Left."

"Perfect." He stated as he slid into the bed, grimacing.

"When did you last take your pain…"

His gravelly voice interrupted, "While you were in the head. Thought I could use a good night sleep."

She slid in next to him, "Definitely." She reached over and turned the light off as he cocooned around her. Their legs entwining – _how soft….strong…_

"You know," Laura murmured as the exhaustion washed over her, "it is going to be a maddening couple of weeks."

She felt his leg shift around hers, "Very much." His voice rumbled in her ear as his hand pulled her closer.

Laura snuggled into his embrace and the soft pillow, sleep moments away. "When the Cylons appeared on New Caprica, my first thought was whether or not you and the Fleet had managed to escape."

"I didn't want to…" His mind was all ready shutting down. "jump. To leave almost all of humanity on New Caprica…you…Kara…Saul….wasn't easy."

Laura tried to respond, however, her mind all ready shutting down as the exhaustion claimed her. Her body grateful for the reprieve his strong arms provided. Tomorrow would be another day, and the problems facing them were surmounting, but they had not become completely unmanageable.


	13. Nightmares & Showers

**Chapter 13 Nightmares & Showers**

"_Laura Roslin, how good of you to join us." Six stated as she drug her fingers languidly across the prison bars._

_Laura defiantly glared back at Six, not allowing her fear to show. "I thought you wanted peace."_

_"We do," She paused for a moment, her head tilting to one side, "But on our terms."_

_"There are no terms to peace." Roslin rebuttaled._

_"Of course there are terms." Six arched her eyebrow, "And you need to understand this."_

_"Guns, armed centurions, and curfews do not mean peace. It's an armed occupation."_

_Six nodded to the centurion, and it pointed a gun at Roslin, "You see, that is the attitude we cannot afford for you to have, as the people still listen to you."_

_"I'm just a school teacher." Roslin coyly responded._

_"Who use to be President." Six retorted. The centurion took a step toward Roslin, "And now for you to continue without any accidents, you have to agree to respect and believe in our concepts of peace."_

_Roslin looked at Six, the centurion, and then back at Six. "No." She stated firmly, despite the fear swallowing her throat and the blood pounding in her ears._

_The centurion fired._

_XXXXX_

Laura jumped out of bed, heart raising and sweat pouring off her. Another nightmare. She felt his hands rubbing her back, "You all right?"

She took a few shaky breaths, "Yeah. Just another nightmare."

"Wanna talk about it?" He asked sitting up.

She turned to him, and allowed herself to close her eyes. They were not on New Caprica, and they were no longer occupied by the Cylons. Laura leaned her head back against him, taking deep steady breaths in an attempt to slow her heart rate down. "What time is it?"

She felt Bill shift, and then the cabin was flooded with warm light. "0430."

"I'm sorry I woke you." She mumbled.

"You're all right." He stated as he continued to gently rub his hand over her back.

"I know." She took another deep breath. "Want to have some coffee?"

She felt him shift again, "Galley." His voice stated, "Have them send some coffee to my quarters." She heard him hang up the phone.

"An Admiral perk?" She smiled.

"Yes." He stated. "It will be here in a minute." He moved around her and stepped over to his closet. Laura noticed his shirt had a small dark red stain on the side, his side was still seeping. He grabbed a pair of sweats and pulled them up over his shorts, groaning while he did so.

"I could have…" She started to say, but then she realized what she was stating and abruptly stopped.

"Probably would start rumors neither of us are prepared to face." He stated as a knock echoed across the cabin. He went to reach for his glasses, and she handed them to him as she tucked her legs up on his bed.

He turned the light on as he passed the desk as he walked to the hatch, opened it enough to take the large carafe of coffee, stated thank you and closed the hatch. He grabbed two cups, and returned to his rack.

Laura took the carafe and filled both their cups, setting it down on the shelf next to her glasses. "Thank you." She sipped the warm liquid.

"My pleasure." Adama sat across from her at the foot of the bed. He stretched his legs out around hers, propping his back up on the wall. He waited for her, not pushing. _She was obviously troubled by her dream, and when she first woke up she had stated 'another nightmare' as though this wasn't the first. He wanted to help her._

"During the occupation, I was imprisoned."

Adama had heard that Tigh had been immediately imprisoned and later Roslin as the leader of the underground resistance. He had not asked for details, he was just thrilled they were both alive. "For how long?" Tentatively sipping his coffee, hoping it wouldn't burn all the way down his esophagus. It was warm, not blistering hot, and felt luxurious coating his throat.

Laura felt herself drifting off, trying to forget those horrible days and remember life before the cacophony of her fateful trip to Galactica. _There has been so much death…_she thought as she focused her eyes on the man before her. It was 4:30 in the morning, and he was sitting across from her waiting patiently for her to tell her story. He wasn't pushing, not jostling around impatiently, just sitting and waiting. She loved the intensity he projected as he waited, his eyes the color of a deep blue sea staring at her, waiting. Laura idly ran her hand along her knee, as she had another swallow of coffee. "Three days." Her voice became thinner as she spoke, "And those three days have spawned into nightmares which are far worse than the actual events."

Adama adjusted his glasses, his voice soft, comforting. "What happened while you were imprisoned?" He laid his hand on hers, resting on her knee.

"I…." Laura leveled her eyes with his, finding the resolve to continue. "I was coordinating the resistance movement through the school. It was fairly easy to do, since I was able to see large groups of people, parents, without arousing suspicion. Tyrol was one of the resistance leaders, Cally would walk their neighbor's daughter to school. I'd call Cottle because of child's cough, another member of the resistance." She couldn't help the smile spread across her face, "It just worked."

"All of this right under Baltar's noise." He smiled back.

"Making it all the more enjoyable." She sighed, "But incredibly risky. After the first counter strike, Tigh was taken to a make shift jail. They believed he was planning the resistance." At that pause, she realized that she had not thanked Tigh for all that had happened on New Caprica. She would rectify that, today. "The Cylons were partially correct, he was helping to coordinate – but I was the one picking out the targets. He was just carrying out my orders."

"How long before they suspected you?"

Laura reached over, picking up her glasses – she was tired of seeing a blurry face. She wanted to see the lines of his face, the nuisances that made him mysterious and fascinating. Putting them on, she also pulled the carafe over. "More?"

"Yes." He extended his cup, "Thank you." He saw a few drops hit his leg, "I think."

She finished pouring herself a second cup, "Better your leg than the bed." She stated as she put the carafe back on the shelf. His face filled with displeasure, "Besides," She tried to keep the amusement out of her voice, "Your leg needed some caffeine too."

Bill's face distorted slightly more, causing Laura to go into a giggling fit. She spilled some coffee on the side of her shirt, and Bill's comment, "Guess your side was thirsty." Sent her over the edge, and it took several minutes until both of them stopped laughing.

"You know," Bill stated as he propped himself back into a sitting position, "I don't think you're going to be allowed to drink in bed."

Laura took a deep breath, feeling her oxygen hungry lungs, "Really?" She asked innocently while taking in the drips covering the pillows and sheets from her laughing fit. "And what about you?" She glanced at his end of the bed, equally covered with spots.

He noticed the drips surrounding him too, "I guess that will go for me too." He chuckled for a moment before the smile slowly fell from his face as his hand moved to hold hers. "How long did it take the Cylons to suspect you?"

The last of the laughter died in a heartbeat as he asked his question. Taking his hand, she felt reassured that this was the present and her memories would stay in the past. "Two weeks." She feigned a smile, but Adama could tell it was not sincere. As she continued, Laura tried to keep her voice steady and the panic from her face. "It was shortly after school began when we heard the Cylon troops marching down the alley. We tried not to think much of the noise, but when they stopped just outside the tent, I couldn't breathe. I knew they were there for me, but I forced myself to continue teaching and ignore them until one of the tall blond models entered the tent…"

_"Miss Roslin." Six stated demurely as she casually walked between the students, occasionally ruffling one of the children's hair as she breezed by. "You are ordered to appear before the Cylon Council and the President of the Colonies on acts of conspiracy and sedition."_

_Roslin winked at the Kevin, the small child in front of her, as she stood. "Just continue with your lesson Kevin." Laura turned to Maya. "Please continue with their lessons until I return." She then fixed her gaze on Six, "Obviously there has been some type of misunderstanding here." Laura squared her shoulders and headed to the front of the tent, Six close behind. "I'll be back shortly, Maya." With that, she ducked out of the shelter of the school and into the harsh elements of New Caprica._

"They marched me past the chambers and straight to jail. The tall blond placed me in the cell, no others were present, and locked me in. She stated she would be back that afternoon, and she wanted to give me time to think of how to assist the Cylons with achieving a lasting peace with the humans. And then she left." Laura paused for a breath of air, it seemed that now that she had started to tell her tale, it had taken on a life of its own. As though she were purging it from her system, cleansing the wound so to speak. "She did not return until morning, with armed Centurions and a Doral model. They talked of peace and how they would 'help' us…" Involuntarily she shuddered at the memories of what they deemed 'help'. "As long as we permitted them to have a hundred women annually to conduct safe experiments on breeding; armed centurions patrol the colony for protection; off world communication equipment monitored by the human Cylon variety; and their belief in the one 'true' God would be taught in conjunction with our belief in the Gods; then they would remain at peace with the human race."

Adama smiled, "Is that all?"

Laura couldn't help but smile too, it was contagious. "No, but you get the picture. I informed them, they were speaking with a school teacher – not the President. I had no power to assist them with their peace process."

"They didn't believe you?" His eyes were twinkling from his comment, as he took a sip of coffee.

She shook her head slightly, "No." Her voice held a bit of laughter to it, "And when they pushed for information, I merely told them how did I know I was not the dually elected official – that would be President Baltar. I was a teacher who would teach a curriculum built from the Twelve Colonies – and in regards to the resistance, it was a shame truly – they were only killing dozens of Cylons, unlike the billions of humans they managed to decimate 18 months ago. In that aspect, maybe we could use some advice." Laura upended her cup as Bill began speaking, he forced his voice to seem hopeful.

"Did they give you any ideas?"

She set her cup down, "No, they left – with the food, and came back that evening." She paused, dreading the events that transpired, a shiver involuntarily running down her body. "Six, Doral, Leoben, and De'anna returned with two Centurions."

Bill noticed the slight trembling, and quickly placed his hand over hers offering her unconditional support as he nodded for her to continue when she was ready.

"They began asking me questions regarding the resistance, Saul, people they suspected, targets, you – where the Fleet went…" Grey eyes closed and Bill took a deep steadying breath an instant before he spoke. He would not sound worried when he asked the question. "Did they hurt you?"

Her head bobbed, and a strained voice spoke. "Yes, but not nearly as bad as they did Saul. They threw me a couple of times, struck me across the face, and played a Cylon version of a game of truth or dare by gun. Thankfully, the chamber was empty."

He squeezed her hand, as she babbled on – both knowing she needed to get through this to heal. "When they left, I didn't have the pleasure of seeing them again, the resistance broke me out within an hour of their departure. Tyrol practically carried me to a safe house, Cottle was waiting for me – I slept the next two days. When I awoke, Tyrol informed me you had contacted the resistance and were planning an insurgent strike. I remained in the safe house through the end of the occupation. The resistance wouldn't let me out of it." Her spirit lightened when she remembered trying to get pass Tryol to leave for a bit of fresh air. He was an immoveable bull.

"I'll have to thank Tyrol for helping to plan your break-out and then not letting you be stubborn and get yourself killed." Bill mentally forced the images of someone throwing Laura across a room out of his mind. _He didn't need to focus on what they did to her, he could strategize how to make them pay later. Right now, Laura needed him. And he would be there for her, but later…_

Laura stretched over to him; bring their faces within inches of each other's. Softly she spoke, her words dancing across his skin. "Be sure to thank Saul too." Bill's face portrayed his lack of understanding and she explained, "The resistance was there to break him out, he was in the building next to mine. He ordered them to retrieve me first. When Tyrol stated that I was on Colonial One with Baltar, Saul informed them of a taunt Six had made to him regarding me being imprisoned too." Laura paused as she brushed his lips, "So please thank him too."

"Uh-huh." Bill stated, thanking Saul was the last thing on his mind at the moment. _His angel was too close, her perfume playing across his senses, driving all thought from his head, except how much he wished to take the pain of New Caprica and melt it away with his love. _He covered the distance between them, kissing her deeply – fully. With aching slowness, he pulled back, leaning his forehead against hers. Both Laura and Bill trying to stymie the desire to pursue their relationship past mere kisses, neither one was succeeding.

Laura sighed as she opened her grey eyes, meeting smoldering blue ones. "How's your side?" She asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Healing." He nipped at her neck, "But not nearly..." His voice trailed off as his lips blazed a path across her neck, "fast enough." He mumbled against her ear. Involuntarily, her head fell back further exposing her neckline. "Bill…" Her train of thought dissipated as his lips tugged on her ear and his hand began to caress her breast. Laura felt her body want to succumb to his tenderness, but somewhere in the depths of consciousness she fought through the wave of passion. Her resolve almost melted as his hand deftly switched to her other breast, his tender ministrations causing another moan to slip out.

"Bill," Laura's grey eyes opened, searching through the haze until she found azure ones staring back at her. Tenderly she stroked the side of his face, "Not without you."

He brought his hand to hers, cupping it in his hand. "You are so beautiful." He stroked her wrist absently with his thumb; "I want to make love to you. I want to taste you," She began to blush from his not only his words, but also his intensity. "All of you. I don't want to make you wait, I want to satisfy you."

For a moment Laura didn't know what to say, she merely stared at the man before her. _Admiral William Adama. William Adama. Bill Adama. Bill. He loves me. _Elation spread through Laura from her core to her fingertips, her voice quickly found. "Bill, I want you to make love to me, just as much as I want to make love to you. But…" She paused, wanting to phrase her words carefully. "I want 'us' to be together for the first time."

It was Bill's turn to stare at her, _A goddess, temptress, and scholar with auburn tresses and smoky eyes – how in the Gods did luck favor me so? _Tenderly he kissed her knuckles, a look of mild amusement and bewilderment intermixed upon his face. "I don't know exactly when The President began to be more of a beautiful, intelligent, breathtaking woman than just the President; but I am sure glad it did."

"Probably around the same time The Admiral began to be more of a brilliant, honorable, devilishly handsome gentleman."

"Hmm." He arched his brow. "Glad there are none of those type people here."

She smiled, "Me too." She edged to the side of the rack, "Breakfast?"

"If it isn't you," Laura went to interject, but he ignored her. "I think first I'll settle for a cold shower, but I'll call the galley and have them send some food up." Gripping his ribs, he maneuvered to the edge of the rack too. "Any preferences?"

"Something other than cold – New Caprican stew."

"When we left orbit, I informed the Galley – no New Caprican dishes. Only dishes that originated from the Twelve Colonies."

"How long do you think that order will last?" She asked doubtfully.

He went to pick up the phone, "Not long." He picked up the phone, "Galley. Can you have someone send up a carafe of coffee and breakfast for Ms. Roslin and I in twenty minutes." He hung up the phone and turned to Laura. "Would you like to use the head first, or did you want to share the cold shower?"

Laura grabbed a towel as she stepped toward the head, "Who said anything about needing a cold shower?" She turned around heading into the head, reaching up and pulling her nightshirt off. "You? If you don't mind," She turned her head briefly around, "I'll use the head first." And she closed the door.

A/N: Thank you for those whom have taken a moment to review! I greatly appreciate it!


	14. A slow Morning

A/N….I'll try and get this posted on a regular basis – enjoy!

**Chapter 14 A Slow Morning**

Laura stepped out of the head, water dripping from her auburn tresses running down her face…the Admiral blinked the provocative image away. _Now is not the time_, he reminded himself as the medical technician began cleaning the dressing on his side.

"Sir…" The young woman stammered, and as Adama's eyes met hers, she seemed to shrink back. "I just wanted to say thank you."

Adama noticed her hands were shaking as she unwound the bandages. She was perhaps 20-22 years old, and desperately trying not to be afraid. _She's the reason, _he thought as his heart skipped a beat, _that we get up every morning. _He took a moment to glance around the sickbay, most of the technicians were young; not originally commissioned personnel. _They all are. _He mused. _The reason why humanity MUST survive; to give these kids a chance for a life – and one not to be lived in fear, but in the comfort of peace and love. Love…_the simple word brought Laura's face to mind. As his thoughts lingered there for a moment, _her face was replaced by her long neck, elegant back…Woooo, Bill, _he swore slightly at how fast his thoughts traveled back to this morning. Quickly regaining control of his mental state, Adama gently placed his hand on the Tech's shoulder, she paused flushing out the stitches and met his eyes. "No, thank you for still fighting." Squeezing her shoulder, he removed his hand, "And," He glanced at his side and back up to her, "Treating me and my crew."

"Aloysi," Cottle rounded the corner, "Is the Admiral giving you a hard time?" Cottle stopped and eyed Aloysi and the Admiral.

She shook her head, "No, Doc."

Cottle nodded, "If any of the crew do, even the Admiral, you come and tell me." She nodded her head in response, "Good, now if you can give the Admiral and I five minutes." With that Aloysi vanished in a heartbeat. Cottle answered Adama's question before he could even ask. "I have a several new staff, who are learning quickly, but a few persons have given them a hard time."

"Any military personnel?" Adama did not like the sound of what he was hearing.

Cottle leaned over to look at his side, "Yes. Admiral, I am going to take an X-ray. I don't like the color along your side." He straightened, and pulled his chart. "Your blood pressure is lower than normal." Cottle and the Admiral's eyes met, "I'm concerned you are still bleeding internally. Having problem's breathing?"

"I get winded walking to CIC from my quarters." Adama's concern regarding Cottle's new staff shifted to himself, and from the look Cottle gave him – he needed to be more than worried.

Cottle reached behind him and grabbed a stethoscope, "Breath." He placed the cold metal against Adama's skin. "Again." He moved the end, "Again." There was a pause, "Can you breathe deeper?"

Adama tried to comply, but was rewarded with a sharp pain closely marked by the other end of the stethoscope.

Cottle pulled the stethoscope off, "Damn unlucky." He pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his lab coat pocket. "Your lung is filling with fluid."

Bill took a steadying breath, "The x-ray will confirm that."

Cottle shook his head, "Yes, but the color, your breathing restrictions, and the way you sound…" He fired his lighter, "Let's get you an x-ray." He pulled the curtain back, stepped through and began barking orders to his staff and moving the necessary equipment to have the Admiral x-rayed.

xxxxxxxxx

Kara couldn't help her yawn as she stepped out of the cockpit from her the CAP.

"Tired Starbuck?" Tyrol's familiar voice greeted her ears.

"Galen!" Starbuck slid down the ladder in a heartbeat before they enveloped each other in a hug. "When did you get back?"

"Cally and I had to find space before I could return to Galactica." A tender smile crossed his face as they separated, "How are you doing?"

She knew he was referring to Anders, as Galen and Sammy were good friends. Kara bit her lip before answering, trying to stifle the persistent tears. "Its hard. I miss him."

Tyrol placed his hand on her shoulder, "If you need to talk, Cally and I are here."

"I know Chief." She stated, pulling herself behind the decorum of professionalism. "Thanks." She motioned to her viper, "The throttle is a little touchy when panning aft."

"We'll take a look at it. When is your next shift?" He asked as Kara was trying to bite back another yawn.

"Too soon." She took a step, "We are on 20 hour rotations, and despite the military personnel enlisting and re-enlisting, we are still short on pilots."

Tyrol took a step closer, and dropped his voice. "How short?"

"We are still down 30 pilots. We have enough to staff both Galactica and the

Pegasus with skeleton crews, but we are going to have begin training nuggets ASAP. And until we have some additional pilots, Galactica and the Pegasus will be shifting the CAP patrol weekly."

"20 hour rotations?"

Starbuck nodded her head, "Yeah, makes for long days."

Kat stepped out of her viper giving Tyrol's deck gang a hard time, "And cranky pilots." He mumbled, "Excuse me." As he headed toward Kat and the developing scene on the deck.

Kara stepped off the deck, fully intending to pass out in her rack for a few hours shut eyes when she spotted Lee heading directly toward her. His jaw set and eyes ready for a fight, Kara cringed inwardly. Whatever he was irritated about, would not help out their relationship; _actually…_ she thought, _it will probably put a deeper frakkin' wedge between them._

"Since when do you assign the CAG of the Pegasus their flight schedules?" He yelped down the hall.

_Great_, Kara thought, _I've have to deal with this, now?!_ "Since I was assigned to be the CAG of the Galactica and the Admiral asked for a Combat Air Patrol for the Fleet."

Lee stopped within inches of Kara, "That was 3 days ago."

Kara placed her hands on her hips, "Yes, it was Commander. And we have been operating with skeleton crews since leaving New Caprica. Prior to each rotation, I look at the number of pilots we have on _both_ ships to develop the best strategy and submit the CAP accordingly." 

"My crew will not be pulling 20 hour shifts. It is unnecessary."

Starbuck pulled her hands off her hips as she crossed them in front of her, "Really?" She quipped, "So only the Galactica crew needs to work?" She paused for a moment, her eyes dragging up his body from his head to his boots, pausing momentarily on his rotund midsection…her cavalier remark driving her point home. "Well, that explains the look."

Lee felt his cheeks turning red as she looked at him, and at her retort he popped and went to belt her across the face. Kara had been expecting his reaction, and quickly blocked his punch and struck him in his flabby gut. She drew back as he sucked in a deep breath of air. "Talk to the Admiral, Commander." Kara was all ready regretting her commentary and her punch. "I'm just following my orders, Lee."

Lee straightened up, seething. "And I'm just making sure that the hotshot CAG from Galactica is not pushing where she obviously doesn't need to."

Kara let the remark slid and began to ease down the corridor, "Get our numbers up, Commander and none of us will have to be pulling long frakkin' shifts."

Kara turned her back and had taken another handful of steps, when Lee found his voice. "Kara." It wasn't that of the Commander of Pegasus that called her, it was the voice of her 'old' friend. Kara paused, but didn't turn around as he spoke. "I was sorry to hear about Anders."

Kara nodded her blond head, "Thanks." She threw over her shoulder, and then she was gone.

Absently, Lee rubbed the spot Kara had decked him. _I do need to lose this, _he thought and then his thoughts drifted to Kara, and he wondered how he and Kara were going to stop the growing wedge that was building between them. He looked down the corridor where she had last been, _she needs a friend._ Sighing, he headed to the deck to return to the Pegasus, _and I miss mine._

xxxxxxxxx

"Ma'am." Tory stepped into the Ward room on Galactica.

Roslin signed another tedious report regarding allocation of food stores. "Yes, Tory." She glanced up to see her aide's worried expression.

Tory swallowed the lump out of her throat. She didn't like giving Ms. Roslin bad news, and this was definitely not good news. "There was a death of a woman on the Rising Star."

"Cause of death?" _We can't afford to lose anymore people, _she thought sourly.

Tory's voice went up an octave, "She was murdered and her 18 month old daughter is missing."

The word's stopped Laura cold. _Eighteen month old child missing?_ "Do we know who the victim is?" Laura's heart stopped, fearing it may be Maya.

"No, Ma'am. Colonel Tigh is sending an investigator to the Rising Star."

_Why hadn't Bill contacted me when he received the report? Surely he would be as concerned as she, that it could be Maya and Hera. _"Do we know where Maya is?" She asked softly.

Tory shook her head, "No, Ma'am. She and her daughter are chartered for the Rising Star, so it is a possibility." Her voice barren of any emotion. 

Standing, Roslin grabbed her jacket. "What do we have next?"

"You have a meeting with the Captain of Colonial One. He is going to update us on the repair status of Colonial One."

Roslin finished sliding her arm in, "Tory, will you tell George that I am sorry, but I had an emergency I had to deal with. And can you get a situation report regarding the repairs, updating me later this afternoon?"

"Yes, Ma'am." Tory replied as Roslin picked up the phone, discreetly situated on the wall.

"CIC." Roslin stated.

Helo's voice greeted the President's ears. "CIC."

"Major Agathon, may I speak with Galactica Actual?"

"Yes, Ma'am." The Major recognized the President immediately and transferred the call to the commander on deck.

"Galactica Actual." Tigh's voice rang through the receiver.

_Frak. Where was Bill? _She wondered as she began to speak with the Colonel. _He had a meeting with Cottle two hours ago._ "Tory has just informed me of the murder on the Rising Star. Do we know the identity of the victim?"

"No, Ma'am. A team has been dispatched to the Rising Star. As soon as we have any information, we will inform you immediately."

"Thank you Colonel." She paused for just a moment, and though this was not the most appropriate time – Laura knew that _all_ time was precious. "And Saul," She paused for him to register that she had dropped his title and was using his first name. "I have not taken the time nor made the effort, when I should have a week ago. Thank you for everything you did on New Caprica."

There was a lengthy pause on the other end of the receiver, and a slight clearing of the throat. "No thanks necessary Madam President. I was just doing my job."

Roslin couldn't help the small smile spread across her face, _this is what Bill sees in Saul. Despite his mistakes, he is loyal, trusting and when Ellen isn't manipulating him to a fault, modest._ "Well thank you for everything Colonel." With that, she hung up the phone, wishing not embarrass him further.

Turning to Tory, "Who else is on the itinerary today?"

Tory quickly rattled off the days' events.

_Scheduled from morning to night_, Laura thought as Tory continued reciting the President's schedule. _With Tory taking the meeting with George, that will give me a forty minute respite to talk with Bill regarding the issue on the Rising Star._

"Thank you Tory," She buttoned the front of her jacket, moving to the hatch. "I'll be back in forty minutes." With that, the hatch was opened and Laura Roslin was gone.

Xxxxxxxxx

Tigh rubbed his blurry eyes, _he was tired. Where was the 'old man'?_ He wondered. Adama had called this morning, asking Saul to stay on shift until he finished his appointment with Cottle – that was close to three hours ago. _Two hours, with Cottle…something was wrong. _And in that heartbeat, Tigh made his decision. Turning to Helo, "Mr. Agathon, you have the deck." And Tigh left CIC in a blue blur on his way to Sickbay.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Cottle hung up the X-rays, shaking his head as he did. "We need to operate." He pointed to Adama's right lung. Fluid distinctly just over halfway up his lung. "And we need to do it before your blood pressure begins to fluctuate any further."

"What will the surgery entail?" Adama dreaded the answer.

"I'm going to have to drain the fluid from your lung, and I'll scope the exterior of your lung to ensure the lung tissue is closed." He took a drag off his cigarette, "You have fluid coming from somewhere, as much as I hope it isn't, I hope the fluid is blood. That is explainable."

"How long will the surgery take?"

Cottle shook his head. "Don't know." He paused when he noticed russet colored hair peaking through the curtain. "Madame President."

"I'm sorry," She started to spout needing to speak with the Admiral for a moment, and then fumbled to a stop by the look of their faces. "What's wrong?" She asked, switching gears.

Cottle nodded to the hanging x-rays. "The Admiral's lung is filling with fluid. I am going to have to do surgery…" He paused as his tired eyes met steadfast blue ones. "As soon as I can prep the room."

Roslin looked at Cottle, the x-ray and then to Adama. Her mouth moved, and then stopped. It was the third time Cottle had seen the President at a loss for words. It was three more times than he ever would have liked. "How serious?" She asked, voice slightly higher than usual.

Before Cottle could respond, Saul's head popped through the curtain. Face full of concern. "Bill," He paused as he realized who else occupied the small room. "You all right?"

Cottle shook his head, "What kind of ship are you running here?" He mumbled.

Adama raised his eyebrow, "This is _your _sickbay." He responded in kind.

Cottle chuckled, _That is why he had signed to work on the Galactica. Not only was Adama fair, but he could take and spin a joke – even at times like this. _

The Admiral looked at his friend and the woman who had captured his heart. They had both known, on their own accord, that something was wrong. He nodded to Cottle, and Cottle exited to prepare for the surgery.

He nodded to the x-rays, "My lung is filling up with the fluid. I need to have surgery to drain it."

Tigh's face became mildly panicked, "When?"

Adama pulled off his glasses, "Cottle is preparing as we speak." He squinted to see his friend, "Saul, I need you to get in contact with Lee. I would like to see him before surgery, Kara too."

Tigh nodded and paused, "See you in a few hours." He stated with more assurance than he felt.

"Go through with Gaeta's jump sequence this evening as planned, and where are we at with the Pilot's numbers?"

Tigh's cheek twitched, "Still down 30 pilots. Starbuck has completed the CAP assignments for the next 2 weeks, rotating 20 hour shifts between Galactica and Pegasus per week."

"Are you comfortable with her patrol?"

"Yes. It's well thought out. Pushing the pilots, but giving them time off after one week." Saul paused, thinking how out of character it is for him to defend Starbuck.

"Anything else that can't wait until this evening?" He directed to Saul.

"We had a murder of a young woman and a missing eighteen month old child on the Rising Star."

Adama slipped his half moon glasses back on in a heartbeat. "Where?"

"The Rising Star. I have dispatched an investigatory team."

Adama glanced to Roslin, and then back to Saul. "Very well. Have the reports ready for this evening."

"Yes, Sir." Saul glanced at Roslin and Adama. _She's probably here to discuss the murder, _he continued his thought, _and how that will affect moral and safety within the Fleet. Both are hanging by a thread._ "The reports will be ready."

"Thank you, Saul." With that, Saul departed leaving the President and the Admiral alone.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Laura waited for Saul to leave before she took another step closer, bringing her hand to rest gently against his arm. "I…" She shook her head, and tried again. "You'll be fine." She stated trying to reassure both of them.

Bill's eyebrow rose ever so slightly, "Is it Hera?"

"We don't know who the victim is." She took a step back, trying not to pace. "Tory did inform me that Maya and Hera are on the manifest of the Rising Star." Her grey eyes met his blue ones. "I don't think it is a coincidence."

He shook his head, "Me either." Bill adjusted his glasses, "We need to arrange discreet protection."

Roslin's face tightened, "Okay, that is if she isn't dead."

Bill chuckled at her comment, "Good point." His voice dropped to a gravely whisper, "You looked gorgeous this morning."

Her retort died in her throat at his comment as her cheeks began to turn a slight shade of pink. "Thank you." She replied quietly and took a half step closer. "What else did Cottle say?"

Cottle's head peeked through, "Admiral, Madame President, you'll need to wrap up."

Roslin turned to the Doctor, hoping her face has remained a professional stone mask and the blush isn't noticeable. "How long do you expect the surgery to last?"

"How the hell should I know? Once we drain the fluid, I'll have a better idea what is causing the Admiral's lung to fill with fluid."

"Do you think it is remnant of his previous injury?"

"I'm sure there is a Geminon Oracle around here you could ask." Cottle rolled his eyes as and ducked back out.

Roslin turned to Adama, "I'll be back this afternoon." Her voice stated shakily.

Bill reached out and took her hand and squeezed, "And I'll be here."

Laura's face twitched, as she desperately tried not to permit any stray tears to slip through. "You better be."

He brought her hand to his lips, gently placing a kiss on her knuckles and then brought his thumb and traced her cheek. "Where else would I want to be…" He paused until she locked eyes with him, "Except maybe my quarters earlier this morning." The blush she had staved off earlier came back in full force.

Roslin raised her eyebrows and was about to respond when Adama released her fingers, and she heard Lee's voice asking for his father. She smiled as she took a half step back and mouthed, _I love you_. Adama's heart leapt in response as Lee stepped through the door with a worried expression plastered on his face.


	15. Work with What you have

**Chapter 15 Work with what you have**

_Two o'clock, _Roslin brushed aside a stray hair trying desperately to focus on the meeting with her advisory cabinet, and not succeeding in the slightest. Her mind was elsewhere, as were her worries. For the first time since the fall of the Twelve Colonies, her thoughts were not focused on the well being of the Fleet nor the thousand 'what if's' regarding the Cylons' strategies or how humanity was going to survive until tomorrow. The President's thoughts, desires and wishes had finally been overridden by Laura Roslin's.

Wally droned on regarding supplies and potential food store problems within the next two months, but that didn't matter. Laura's sole focus was on the clock and every minute that passed. And why wouldn't she be? Admiral William Adama was undergoing surgery. A surgery that was lasting far longer than the potential 2 or 3 hours Cottle stated. _Almost five hours, _Laura noted as the minute hand slowly drew to a quarter pass two. _How much longer?_ She wondered as the stray thought answered, _and how much longer can you stand to sit here?_ Her internal monologue was cut short as the conversation was directed back to her.

Roslin glanced at Wally, quickly replaying the events of the pass few minutes in her mind. "First priority regarding our food replenishment will be establishing some type of hydroponics for our fresh vegetables and fruits."

"What about the secondary cargo hold on the Astral Queen?" Dyneshia asked.

The group began discussing additional viable options and Laura's attention slipped back to the clock and the amount of time that had elapsed since she last looked. _It's been too long, _she thought. _What if he dies? What if he hemorrhages and Cottle doesn't have enough blood to…stop that Laura. He's fine. _Her mind stated forcefully, leaving no room to be argued otherwise. _For frak sake, get a grip. Cottle is merely be cautious, taking his time, and leaving no loose end unturned for Bill. He is the Admiral after all._

"Ma'am." Tory whispered, diverting her attention from her ruminations and to her drab surrounds and a folded piece of paper Tory was handing her.

"Thanks Tory." She replied.

She hardly noticed the hush that fell over the room, their collective eyes glued to Roslilng and the parchment she was unfolding. They were wondering if it was news on the Admiral's surgery. After all, he was the Admiral and it was taking quite some time.

As Laura's eyes focused on the writing, the President's worry intensified. There had been a second murder and kidnapping of an eighteen-month female child. Laura glanced up at the room full of expectant faces. "We have had a second murder and kidnapping."

Gasps and murmurs echoed across the room. Roslin stood, "Tory, can you call a press conference." She picked up the small note, "I am going to have to adjourn this meeting until tomorrow. Please bring a list of your top three locations for hydroponics and school classrooms. Thank you." She felt the familiar politician smile take over her face as she headed to the phone.

"CIC." She stated succinctly.

Felix Gaeta's voice responded. "CIC."

"May I speak with the Commander on Deck." Roslin hoped Tigh would be there.

"Speaking Madame President."

_Frak._ "Any information regarding the second murder victim?"

Gaeta took a deep breath trying to level his voice. _He liked Roslin, but he'd prefer if the Colonel or the Admiral dealt with her. She made him nervous. _"Her name was Aloysi Deghn. She was a medical technician on the Galactica. Her daughter, Elsi, remains missing."

"And the identity of the first victim?" Roslin had not had time to read the cursory findings report.

"Marien Iglsia was the victim and her daughter Laura is missing."

_Laura?_ Roslin took a single breath, _Gods, I hope Marien did not name her daughter after me!_ "Thank you Mr. Gaeta." She responded and hung up the phone, mildly despondent. _She needed her friend here to talk to her and tell her not to be worried. They would figure it out._

"The press will be here in half and hour." Tory came to a halt a few feet away.

"Thank you Tory." Roslin forced the politician's smile back into place. "I need you to discreetly find out if Maya is on the Rising Star. If she isn't, please find her current location."

"Of course." She turned to leave, "You think someone is going after her and the child?"

_I'm not the only one_, she mumbled to herself. "That is a possibility." She verbalized aloud.

"I'll retrieve that information by the end of your press conference." Tory slipped out the door before Roslin could comment.

The President watched Tory pull the hatch close behind her. Roslin's mind all ready switching gears to the press conference and the 'serial' killer targeting mothers' of young children. _How the press will go nuts! This is just what we need. More reasons for paranoia – as if the Cylons don't give us enough._ She sneered at her last thought and glanced at the wall. The press would be here in fifteen minutes, and she needed to write a statement.

The President marched to the table, snatching up a pad and pencil. Her eyes strayed to the clock on the wall…_Two forty. What is taking so long?_ Laura wondered twirling the pencil in her fingers. _The pencil…_she smiled at the memory of her pre-election debate in Bill's quarters. _Break preconceptions, work with what you have…_she heard his voice casually say. In one swift moment, she snapped the pencil in two. _She wanted nothing more than to work with what she had...and all the headaches that would come along with her Presidency and his Admiralty and their relationship. _And with that sudden realization, she slipped the two pencil halves in her pocket – no further preparation needed. _Even now, in surgery, he had brought her all the strength she needed, _she mused. Twirling the broken half in her fingers, her worry dissipated and a genuine smile lit up her eyes. And how couldn't it…

_And what happens if the moderator doesn't have a pencil…._

_Then your pretty screwed….he had stated as a rare smile radiated from his face...mirroring his soul…_

She was going to see him later this afternoon, and his blue eyes would latch onto hers and her heart would stop…just like every other time their eyes locked…Yes, she was merely working with what she had. And what she had was William Adama, and that was just fine with her.

xxxxxxx

"Tigh…" He felt Ellen push his arm, "Saul wake up." Ellen half dragged him into a sitting position.

Saul rubbed his eyes, trying to clear the fog when his phone sounded. Reaching over he yanked it off the wall. "This is the CO." He grumbled into the receiver.

"Sir, we have contact on Dradis – one basestar." Gaeta's voice stated.

Saul's military training kicked, "How long?"

"Contact within two minutes."

"Launch the alert fighters."

"All ready away sir."

"Begin Gaeta's jump sequence. CO out." Saul grabbed his pants as Ellen grabbed his jacket.

"The Cylons?"

Yanking his pants on, along with his socks, he stood jamming his shirt into his slacks as he fastened them. "Yes. They'll be within range in less than two minutes." He stated jamming his feet into his boots as Ellen slipped his jacket onto his shoulders. "Seal the hatch behind me." He stated as she buttoned half of his jacket. He paused for just a moment as he zip fastened his boots before he leaned over and kissed her, "Love you." And he was out the door, heading to CIC. He maneuvered the corridor in seconds, and arrived in CIC with the Cylons still 45 seconds until within weapons range.

"Has the Fleet began the jump sequence?" He stated looking at the radar.

Gaeta responded, "Half the Fleet is away."

"Bring up forward batteries."

"Aye Sir."

Tigh paused for a moment as he listened to the Pilot's chatter across the COMM system.

"Stay in formation." Starbuck's voice echoed.

"Copy that." Hotdog responded.

"And for frak sake, stay out of Galactica's and Pegasus' firing solutions."

"Aye Sir." Came half the pilot's responses.

Kara glanced at her radar, "Stay focused." Her words sounded far away as she glanced at the specters marching ever presently closer. _Get your mind in the game Kara, or you'll be toasted by a fraking toaster._ She chuckled to herself as she engaged the first wave of Cylons. Several of the Cylons broke off, avoiding the initial onslaught. _Their learning, _her voice echoed, _and one day they will know how to beat us – we need,_ she kicked her thrusters on to avoid becoming space debris, _to change our tactics._ And then her mind drifted to Adama and how he was changing Tactics. _Utilizing a three jump sequence, brilliant._ "Aghh…" Starbuck yanked the stick and thrusters around to nail the Cylon fraker who was tried to blow her up from behind. She caught sight of Galactica, and her mind drifted back to Adama - _there was still no word from Cottle, and that was less than ten minutes ago_, she mused. And as the bullets glanced by her window, Starbuck snapped back into focus. _The last thing the 'old man' needs when he does wake up is to find me out of commission._ And with that, Starbuck kicked in the burn to kill a few more Cylon frakers.

xxxxxxx

"Sir, the last ship has jumped." Gaeta announced.

"Contact Pegasus Actual." Tigh stated, and yanked up the phone.

"Pegasus Actual." Commander Adama's voice sounded.

Tigh stated, "Beginning jump prep…" The Commander's voice echoed the words on the Pegasus to fall in line with Galactica. "in three, two, one mark."

"See you in two minutes Colonel." And the receiver went dead.

"Recall all Vipers." The CO's voice cut through the loud ambient noise that existed on the Galactica during combat.

"Galactica to CAG." Helo's voice went out across the communication System.

"CAG here…" Thrace responded as she laid another round of suppression fire, taking down a raider. "Go ahead Galactica."

"Return to the barn. Galactica out."

"You heard them birds. Return to Galactica, ASAP." Starbuck's voice seemed to turn into steel as she herded the Vipers toward Galactica.

Saul watched as the line of Vipers began to take birth inside Galactica, and how fast the Cylons were approaching. Taking a deep breath, he turned to Helo, "We jump in five…"

"All vipers accounted for."

"Four."

"Landing bays are…"

"Three."

"Secured."

"Two…One. Jump."

Unlike their previous jumps, when they arrived at their destination the navigation computer and FTL system recalibrated two subsequent times as they jumped their slated three jumps. Finally they arrived at their destination coordinates.

"Sir, all Colonial transponders are present and accounted for." Helo's voice sounded through CIC.

Tigh closed his eyes, "Thank the Gods." He turned to Gaeta, "Great job Mr. Gaeta. Great job." He turned to Helo. "Stand down to condition three throughout the Fleet."

"Aye Sir." Helo stated. "Colonial Fleet, this is the Galactica. Stand down to condition three. I repeat, stand down to condition three." He paused for a moment, "Sir, Doc Cottle is requesting your presence in Sickbay."

The jubilance within CIC vanished in a heartbeat, "Mr. Gaeta, you have the deck."


	16. 20 percent

**Chapter 16 20 Percent**

Baltar set the results down from the blood samples. "No."

"Your sure." The squirrelly man countered.

With a half-hearted effort, Baltar handed the paper to the other man. "Yes. It's a simple blood test. Neither sample tested as a match to the original donor."

Six placed her hand on Gauis' shoulder, her voice tickling his neck. "You are trying to reach the same goal…"

Baltar casually glanced at the blond with an eyebrow raised as he spoke to Jameson, "You aren't looking for someone, around the age of 16 to 24 months, are you?"

Jameson shrugged, "Perhaps." Discreetly, he pulled a knife out. "What's it to you?"

Six slipped around Baltar, and walked along Jameson. "Be careful Gauis." He locked eyes with him, "He has a knife."

Gauis Baltar fought to keep the fright from showing on his face, and the overwhelming panic from consuming him. He realized Jameson was waiting for his answer, his voice responded – two octaves above normal. "Just that I was looking for someone around the same age."

His toothless grin further unnerved Baltar. "Someone who carried an unwanted bastard that you'd like dealt with?" He asked shoving his knife back into his sleeve.

_Genius. Absolutely genius. _Baltar nodded, "Yes. I would pay…"

Jameson held up his grungy hand. "How 'bout a drink before we talk business?"

Six rested her elbows on the table by the Ambrosia and glasses, exposing her long legs. "You know…" She stated. "Gauis, the poor fellow is going to be killed by the Cylon who hired him."

"Yes…" Baltar plastered a fake smile on as he made his way toward Six and the Ambrosia, "A drink would be nice." His smile became genuine as his eyes trailed her legs.

"It might be better for you not to associate yourself with him, and find Hera another way." She casually twirled her hair.

"I'd rather deal in merchandise," Jameson stated glancing around Baltar's office, eyeing anything and everything that could fetch a cubit on the Black Market.

"I'm sure it would be better…" He poured the first glass, glancing at Six "if we found another way…" Baltar poured the second glass as Jameson's eyes stopped roaming and fixed on Gauis. "to pay other…" He handed Jameson a glass. "than merchandise."

Jameson raised the glass, "To business."

Baltar nodded his head, "Business."

xxxxxxxxx

Cottle pulled off his robes and fired up a cigarette. He was tired. The surgery had lasted much longer than he anticipated. Closing his eyes for a moment, he waited for the four persons to arrive to bring them up to speed regarding the Admiral's condition. He'd prefer to have told just one, and go about with his business – but Adama was the Admiral. _What a bloody mess_, he thought taking a drag off the cigarette. Lazily opening his eyes, he mused at the white roll nestled between his fingers, _I need to quit these sooner or later._ Taking another hit, _Later,_ he concluded as Tigh and Kara both bolted into Sickbay looking for Adama.

"Calm down." Cottle stated, "Before you get my staff worked up."

Neither one listened as they both asked if Adama was alive. "Calm down." Was again Cottle's response. "He's alive."

They both breathed a sigh of relief. "How serious?" Kara asked finally noticing the Doc's tired stature.

Cottle shook his head, "Two minutes, and…' He turned his attention to new person flying through sickbay, Commander Adama. "Is my father alive?"

"Yes." Cottle repeated.

Lee breathed a sigh of relief, "Why did the surgery take so long?"

Cottle stretched to the metal container and put his cigarette out. _He didn't need it anyway. _He thought with dejection, _as if they would give him another 2 minutes of peace to finish it. _ He went to comment, when he noticed the President quietly and unobtrusively enter. Her face was reserved as usual, but her body language lacked some of usual self assuredness that defined her.

"Now that the President has arrived, let me bring ALL of you up to speed." Cottle stated, and through the corner of his eye watched Roslin's final few steps until she joined the group.

"He is alive. The surgery lasted longer as the fluid was congealing in his lung." Cottle paused a moment, allowing his words to register. "It was a mixture of blood and infection."

"Infection?" Saul asked in surprise. "I thought you were concerned about fluid."

_What I wouldn't do for an intern…_ "Yes." _Maybe pull more hours… _"Puss and infection is a fluid." _Work on my bedside manner… _ "I explained to the Admiral the potential of infection. Having his lung fill up with blood given the alternative options was preferable, but given the lapse of time since the initial injury, the odds were for other –" He squinted his eyes, "Less favorable ones." _Cigarettes… _

"Doc, how bad was the infection?" Kara's voice trembled with the question.

Cottle felt his stomach jerk as he recalled the surgery. _No, an intern isn't worth cigarettes, but damn if it isn't close._ "Bad." The urge to have a cigarette as he spoke about Adama's surgery, became overwhelming. He reached into his uniform pocket and pulled out his last one, mildly crinkled, but just what the Doctor ordered. Placing it in his mouth, he fired it up and instantly felt his anxiety level diminish. "I was able to save most of his lung…"

As the words left his mouth, Roslin's face turned ashen. Kara and Saul looked as though they were going to be sick and Lee managed to fumble out the obvious question. "How much of his lung did you remove?"

"The bottom left quadrant of his right lung – about 20 percent. I am transferring penicillin from the Pegasus to treat the infection and save the rest of his lung."

_Ohh my…Bill…_Laura brought her hand up to her mouth as she fought valiantly to keep her face somewhat composed, but she could feel the tears pooling around the edges – wanting to drop. _She could sense Kara's reaction of shock and despair. Saul seemed to stumble backwards as he had been hit in the gut. Lee…Gods…Lee. His face slackened and he seemed to just stop… he merely starred at Cottle as though the man had spoken in a foreign tongue. _

"Can…" Kara was ringing her hands, "Can …we see him?"

Cottle exhaled a cloud of smoke, "He's in a vent chamber. You can see him as the walls are clear, but no admittance."

"How long?" Saul asked.

Cottle shook his head, "How the hell do I know? As long as it takes for the infection to dissipate and not a bloody moment sooner."

Lee's jaw was becoming set, the Commander in him was taking over. "When will my father wake up?"

"I have pumped him full morph to offset the surgery. He'll be out for the next several hours." _The longer the better_, Cottle thought wishing he had another pack to start into. "I have all ready started pumping him full of antibiotics, and when he wakes up – he'll have to start breathing treatments. He'll be in a foul mood, as it'll hurt like hell, but it will help keep the fluid from settling back in."

Roslin adjusted her stance, "Doctor," She paused until Cottle met her eyes with his own. She was done being Laura for a moment, the President had some questions concerning the Admiral. "Best case scenario, how long before the Admiral can return to limited duty?"

"Taking limited meetings in his quarters in a week. CIC in three weeks."

"Likelihood the infection will spread?"

"Level IV staph…with the high level doses of antibiotics…50/50. I'll know in 48 hours if the infection is strengthening or weakening."

Roslin felt herself nod, "Commander," Her words seemed distant, even to her own ears. "Please finish up here and then reconvene in the Ward Room. I am temporarily placing you in charge of the Military."

"Yes, Ma'am." He stated as she threw him a supportive smile before quietly exiting the room.

_20 percent…_the walls were a blur as thoughts of his surgery preoccupied her every movement. It felt as though a mere second had passed as she stepped through the hatch to the Ward Room. Tory awaiting her arrival.

"How is Admiral Adama?" Tory's curiosity mirroring so many other people.

The President of the Twelve Colonies slowly raised her head, "He's alive." She heard herself say, "Cottle removed…" But the rest of the words died away...she couldn't spit them out…her mouth having problems forming around the words…until finally she choked out Cottle's prognosis. "He…had to remove 20 percent of his right lung. He is critical for another 48 hours."

Tory's face held an accumulation of Laura, Saul, Lee and Kara's expressions when Cottle had told them.

Laura stole a glance at the clock, _five past four._ She felt her emotions sliding behind the Presidential mask…_Cottle stated he'd be awake in several hours…more than three…_"Schedule a press conference for six. Now, who is next on the agenda?" Laura's voice was still a little shaky, but she needed to finish her day, and finish it quickly.

Tory shook herself to the present, _if my boss can work, so can I._ "Ah…" She paused, reconnoitering herself. "We have a 4:15 with…"

Laura felt herself blank out as Tory recited her schedule. _No more than three hours, because she fully intended to be there when he woke up. His hand wrapped with both of hers. Cottle be damned._

A/N: Special thank you to those who have been reviewing very much appreciate it!!!


	17. Exposing Cottle's Soft Underbelly

A/N: Big thank you to Mariel & Lady Henrietta for the wonderful & constant reviews!

**Chapter 17** **Exposing Cottle's Under Belly**

With lethargic steps, Laura made her way back to Sickbay. It had taken just over four hours to wrap up her day. _And what a four hours…_she thought turning the corner and finding herself at Sickbay's hatch. She nodded to her escort who took up their post outside the door, and she quietly entered the large room hoping to miss Cottle. Roslin surveyed the room, Med Techs were bustling around…._No Cottle_, she thought feeling relieved that she wouldn't have to butt heads with the man.

"Madame President." Cottle's gruff voice asking from behind. "You just missed Starbuck."

Laura plastered her smile on her face, "Sorry I missed her."

He squinted his eyes ever so slightly, _she was up to something. _"The Admiral is this way." Cottle directed and took a step, but stopped when the President didn't move.

Suddenly Laura's legs felt like lead. Taking a deep steadying breath, she forced herself to continue forward. Each step harder and harder until she could make out his sleeping form through the clear plastic. He seemed to be resting peacefully, but Laura knew that he still had the drugs in his system from the surgery. "Has he awakened?" She took the final few steps to the plastic barrier that separated her from Bill.

"No." Cottle eyed the President. _She looked like…_Her fingers barely touched the plastic…and in that heartbeat, everything became clear to Cottle. And how he missed it before, he had no Colonial idea, but all the signs were glaring at him. _She loves him. _Cottle cast a sideways glance at the Adama and then back at Roslin. "Madame President, can you come with me for a moment." Cottle's voice pulled Roslin back to the present and she jerked her hand to her side.

He followed her into his cluttered office, pulling the door close behind him. This was definitely not something he wanted overheard. And if he was accurate, he very much doubted the other occupant would either. "How long have you and the Admiral been together?" He asked without preamble.

Laura stared momentarily dumbfounded at Cottle. _How…_ "I…" She cleared her throat, strengthening her resolve. "I have no idea what you are talking about." She finished sounding _very_ presidential.

Cottle shook his head, "Right." He mumbled. He was about to say he was sorry for the mistake, when he looked her dead in the eye and he knew…he had seen that look before. _Profound worry._ In that instant he made a decision, and he pushed knowing that he would need to be there to help her get back up. _There's a first time for everything, _he thought. "Laura." He stated and she jumped. Even when he was treating her for cancer, he had never used her first name. _Gods, why am I doing this?_ He thought. "I have been a doctor for a long time." _Because, these two people have managed to keep the Fleet together…and alive. They have no one to help, to share the burden with – except each other. _"And I have seen loved ones come in before or after surgery…" His voice actually turned soft, "and their expressions."

Laura turned away, her hand in a fist against her lips. "I…we…" She mumbled. Turning around, she looked at Cottle with teary eyes. "3 days ago." A smile spread across her face through the tears, remembering the small space and events. "When the Cylons attacked us. We almost died…it was the catalyst to help both of us let the other one in." She paused, not wishing to say too much, but needing to let someone in…someone who wouldn't tell the whole crew and Fleet, that it wasn't the Admiral fighting for his life – it was the person she loved. "Since Colonial Day, a year and a half ago, our relationship has slowly been changing. However," She braved a smiled, "As the President and Bill being the Fleets' Admiral, you can imagine the negative side effect. The press alone would…" Her voice became a whisper, and she seemed to become smaller as she continued. "Will have a field day with our relationship."

Cottle placed his hand reassuringly on her arm. "They have no idea, nor would I inform them." His voice lightened up, "Only thing a reporter is good for is testing out airlocks."

His curt response had its desired affect as a giggle slipped from her lips, "After this afternoon's press conference, you will have my full support." Her face returned solemn, "If you noticed…"

"You have nothing to fear. I suspected this afternoon, but even I attributed it to your friendship, nothing more." He paused, knowing he needed to reassure her. "If I wouldn't have years of experience in giving loved ones bad news, and seeing their reactions, I never would have guessed."

Laura looked at the man before her, and the words just flowed out. "Jack," Tears dripped off her lashes, "I don't know what I'd do if he doesn't make it." She rolled her lips, taking a shaky breath. "I'm scarred."

Those words alone were enough to scare even Doc Cottle. The battle hardened doctor who had been through two Cylon wars and thousands of trauma surgeries. She was the strongest person he had ever met, but even she wouldn't be able to recover from his death. And how would she…he had become her friend, her confidant, and if he would get healthy – her lover. "He'll pull through." _Because if he doesn't, the Fleet will die. Not from the destruction of the Twelve Colonies, not from the constant running, not from Cylon occupation, not from the atrocities of New Caprica – but from a broken heart. The Fleet is not ready to survive if they both die._

Laura Roslin closed her eyes as he said that, wanting and needing to believe him. Her soft voice echoing off the walls. "I hope so."

Jack Cottle stared at the woman before him, "Me too." They stood in silence for a minute, before his voice cut through the air. "Care to don on some scrubs?"

Her eyes shot open. "Excuse me?"

Cottle laughed and pulled a cigarette out of his recently filled lapel. "To see the Admiral."

"Ohh..." She replied sheepishly. "I'd love to."

Cottle smiled, "Good, because apparently you have been yelling at me until I relented due to overall Fleet security being compromised." He placed his hand on the hatch, when Laura's voice stopped him.

"Jack." Cottle turned to her, his unlit cigarette hanging in his mouth. "Thank you."

He pulled the white stick out, "Don't ever call me Jack, except in private. And you are most welcome." He spun the hatch, "Just make sure to take care of the Admiral," His eyes twinkled, "He's a good man. You deserve each other." And with that, he opened the hatch – seeking a set of scrubs for the President.

xxxxxxxxxx

The noises were unfamiliar, causing Adama to waken with a start. The world shifted as he willed it snap back into focus. "Bill."

_She was here. _He closed his eyes again, taking a breath and the clarity that came with pain was astounding. "Mmm." The gasp escaping his lips, and a sharp – short intake of breath offset by another tinge. Clenching his jaw, he opened his eyes to see a Med Tech who bore a striking resemblance to Laura and a flurry of commotion off to his left.

The Med Tech smiled, "Hi." She stated simply, and he realized, it was Laura.

Cottle stepped up beside the bed, "Nice of you to join us this evening Admiral."

Adama opened his mouth to reply, when a solitary gloved finger gently pressed on his lips. He turned to Laura, utterly confused as she withdrew her hand. _The public display of emotions…why was she dressed in a Tech's outfit?..._

"Admiral, the surgery lasted longer than anticipated." Cottle's voice continued. "The pain along your right side is due to the removal of 20 percent of the mass of your lung from a level IV staph infection. You have a series bacterial infection, and I am pumping large quantities of antibiotics into your system to combat the infection. However, until the infection is under control, you are in isolation with no visitors."

Adama nodded his head in understanding. Taking a shallow breath, "How…long?" He asked, cringing at the mere concept of breathing again.

"I'll know if we have the infection contained in 48 hours."

"If not?" Adama didn't like the look on either Cottle or Laura's face.

"I'll have to operate. And you may loose your whole lung or worse."

Bill cocked his eyebrow. "Just have to make su..re…" He took a breath, "that doesn't happen."

Laura reached over, entwining their hands. "Doc is working on that."

Cottle leaned slightly closer, "I'm going to give you ten minutes, and then the Med Tech will be back here to give the Admiral his breathing treatments."

"Thank you." Roslin stated.

Adama nodded his head in appreciation, and Cottle turned, his heart warming as their soft voices reached his ears and he closed the chamber after him.

"Gods…I thought…" She raised their hands to her lips.

His gravelly voice offset her soft one, "I said …I'd be here."

"Bill..." Laura felt the recently all too familiar tears welling up, "I don't know what I'd do."

His thumb rubbed her knuckle. "Remember that I love you." He breathed out in a soft voice. He took another breath, "Besides…I'm not going anywhere."

Her lips brushed his hand. "Good thing, because I like your quarters."

He chuckled in spite of himself, grimacing as he tried to stop. "Should I take the Pegasus…it has even larger quarters."

For the first time since their departure from his quarters this morning, she laughed. "No." She stood and leaned over, kissing him gently on the lips. "Yours are just fine." Her grey eyes met his blue ones, and all of the doubts vanished. _He was here…and if he had any say in whether or not he'd be here tomorrow…she knew he'd find a way._

She sat back down, knowing their time together was precious. "I need to tell you a few things that has happened today."

"Hera?" He asked, wishing he had his glasses to see her beautiful face.

"She's fine. However, we have had another murder. An Aloysia…"

The light seemed to fade a moment from Bill's eyes. "Med Tech." He stated in a half dead voice.

"Yes. She had an 18 month old daughter," Bill's head turned slightly, "who is presently missing."

"Met Aloysia this morning." He stated, eyes beginning to water. "She was trying to help the Fleet…" He took another breath. "Had fear in her eyes…" He paused a moment, closing his eyes until he had enough breath to continue. "Wanted to believe in a better way." Laura squeezed his hand, reassuringly. "Any leads?"

Laura shook her head, "Lee is working on it. Speaking of the Commander, I've appointed him temporarily in charge of the Fleet until your released from Sickbay."

Adama nodded his head, "Do fine, just…keep look out…he and Kara."

Laura adjusted her glasses, "I think you have them and half the Fleet preoccupied, but I keep an eye open for any problems." His brief smile told her that would be fine. "Cottle said the breathing treatments are going to be uncomfortable."

He arched his eyebrow, "I don't know how much….more uncomfortable…compared to normal breathing…it could be."

"If Cottle thinks it will be uncomfortable…" She let her voice trail off. She knew he would be miserable in a few minutes, so would she. Taking her glasses off, she laid her head next to his. Her breath dancing along the side of his face. "If you don't mind, I'll stay until you fall asleep."

"Hmmm…sounds nice." Taking his other hand, he gently brushed her check. "How did you … get Cottle to let you in?"

"He guessed." She stated simply.

He turned his head slightly, trying to see her face. "Guessed?"

"Our relationship." She couldn't resist herself, knowing they'd have their privacy shattered in minutes, she brushed her lips against his check. She straightened up, placing her glasses back on. "From my reactions to his news after your surgery, seeing you in here…"

Laura paused and released his hand moments before the curtain was being drawn back. She continued in a low voice, "And I needed someone to talk to." Blue eyes locked onto hers, "Jack won't say anything. And he arranged for me to come in here."

They heard the Med Tech's entrance, "Tell him thank you."

"Of course…Admiral." She added as the Med Tech stopped to check the machines.

The Med Tech smiled, "Admiral, we will need to begin your breathing treatments." She turned to the President. "Ma'am. I don't…" She stumbled with the words, but forced them out. "Know if you would like to remain. The Admiral's treatments are not going to be…comfortable."

The President smiled at the young tech, and looked past her to see the Admiral's face. He was trying to remain calm, Roslin smiled at the young lady. "Thank you…?"

"Meranda." The young tech stated.

"Thank you Meranda, however, the Admiral and I have a few more things to discuss once his treatment is finished. And, it's always nice to have a friend present when you need them."

Meranda smiled, "Yes, Ma'am, it is."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Cottle walked into the Admiral's room and found one passed out Admiral, his left arm wrapped around the equally passed out President who had the chair against the bed and her head nestled on his arm. Shaking his head, he knelt down beside the President. "Laura." He stated, his voice just loud enough to jerk her awake.

"What?" She pulled her glasses off the bed to see Cottle's face mere inches from her own.

"Staying here all night…might not help you keep your relationship under wraps." He stated bluntly.

"Ohh…" She glanced over at Bill who was thankfully passed out. "Didn't mean to. Was just staying for a minute." She straightened up, feeling every muscle protest from remaining in a whopperjaw position for more than intended.

"Come on." He held his hand out. "I'll let you know if his condition changes."

Laura nodded as she slipped from the room, Cottle in tow. Grabbing her clothes, she headed to an empty room. Emerging, she disposed the used scrubs into the recycler, appearing very Presidential. She walked up to Cottle, "Bill and I both appreciate everything."

He smiled, "See you in a few hours, Ma'am." Laura started to walk away, "And, tomorrow, am I to assume there will be another reason for a confidential meeting with the Admiral that will necessitate the privacy screen."

Roslin's face reddened slightly, "Yes Doctor, even if just for a few minutes."

"Good evening."

Roslin left sickbay, her guard in tow as she headed through the familiar halls of the Galactica. Initially she headed to Bill's quarters, thankfully she realized where her feet were taking her, and her temporary quarters were not out of the way. She opened her quarters, and the barrenness shocked her. _Gods I miss Bill's quarters._ She wished nothing more than crawling into his rack, curling around his pillow and going to sleep. She trusted her guards in keeping things confidential, but she didn't want to push the envelope until Bill was out of Sickbay.

Her stomach growled, and she glanced over at the phone. _"Galley." _She could hear his voice saying, and magically his order appeared. She was tempted to see if she received the same response, but opted not too and headed toward the Galley in search of food.


	18. Saying One Thing Meaning Another

**Chapter 18 Saying One Thing Meaning Another**

Kara yawned, _20 hour shifts were killers_, she thought as she stumbled into the galley only to stop short when seeing the President. She was alone, eating a small dish of greens, her guards were on the other end of the mess. Kara momentarily debated on whether to enter, but her stomach answered the quandary.

"Good evening Ma'am." Starbuck stated as she walked to the cook, asking for something quick and light. She was supplied with a salad that bore a striking resemblance to the President's meal.

Roslin nodded to the seat across from her, "Unless you aren't up for company."

Kara sat down, "Just tired." She forced the yawn back at bay. "Trying to pull together a new CAP rotation for the Commander."

Roslin heard the underlying tension in her voice, Adama's concern was definitely warranted. And it took less than 12 hours. "Why are we altering the CAP rotation?" She asked innocently.

Starbuck glanced at the President, mouth full. After swallowing half the bite whole she answered, "Because I was ordered to alter it, immediately. No pilot on a rotation for more than 16 hours."

"That sounds logical." Roslin responded, taking the last bite of her evening snack.

"When we have enough pilots, it is." Kara paused, measuring up the President. "But we remain below the minimum numbers for both ships. And the rotation he is asking for does not leave many pilots available for alert fighters."

Roslins' concern instantly became elevated a level, "Have you brought this up with the Commander?"

Starbuck nodded her head. "Yes." She mumbled through her salad.

Roslin chuckled. "How many hours have you been on shift?"

Kara finished her bite, her tired eyes meeting the Presidents'. "Once I set the rotation, I pulled two 20 hour shifts to have a few hours strung together so I would be available to have dinner at Adama's. I slept for 3 hours and have been on shift since." She filled her fork, "I have to finish the new CAP rotation tonight, and then begin the interview process for flight trainers to train nuggets." She smiled, "So, thought I'd grab some chow before my stomach ate itself." To exemplify her point, she shoved the fork into her mouth.

The President listened to Starbuck's schedule and shuddered, "How can you function?" She asked, wondering how many of the Fleets' pilots were operating on as few hours of sleep as Starbuck.

Starbuck shrugged, "You do what you need to. Besides," She smiled as she maneuvered the last few items together on her plate. "The Admiral needs us," Thrace glanced up at Roslin, "Now more than ever. And I don't know anyone who will let him down." She took the last bite.

Roslin's voice was soft. "Me either." She stated simply.

Thrace set her fork down, "I ducked into Sickbay this evening, and Adama was still sleeping. Did you had an opportunity to see him?" She hoped for an update.

The President nodded, "Yes. I even managed to speak with him for a few moments."

Kara leaned forward, "Really? How did you get Cottle to back down?" She asked hoping to utilize the same tactic.

Laura thought back for a moment, "Simple Captain. I outrank him." Her response drew a chuckle from Thrace.

_So much for using the same tactic, _she thought. "I'm sure that Cottle appreciated that."

"Actually, Cottle makes an excellent CMO. Even though I ordered him to permit me entry, he still denied me access. When I told him the second reason was pertaining to the Fleet's security…" Roslin lifted her eyebrow ever so slightly, "I got to wear scrubs, gloves and caps." She thought back to the ordeal of putting all that medical gear on. "And see the Admiral for a few minutes."

"How is he?" Starbuck pulled Roslin's plate onto her own and stood. Concern lining her voice and echoing through her movements.

Roslin fought back the initial response stating he was doing well. _This is Starbuck…part of his family. She deserves to know the truth…at least most of it_. Laura thought as images of his breathing treatment filled her mind. "He's in a lot of pain. It's causing him to talk in gasps in between taking short breaths, and Cottle was accurate in how foul of a mood the breathing treatments would put him in."

"I'll stop by as soon as I finish the CAP and see if he's awake." Thrace dropped the plates into a large tub and joined Roslin as they headed out of galley.

"I'm sure he'd like to see you." Roslin stated as they walked down the corridor.

"Yeah," Kara looked at Roslin and for a moment wondered what life would be like if the President and Admiral could put their differences aside. _Anything but dull_, she answered herself. "You too." She responded, "Besides, if he doesn't see you for a few days, he'll probably think the Fleet has been lost."

Roslin stopped, she was at the corridor to head back to her quarters, "Doubtful Captain, but I will see him tomorrow with the security update."

_Always concerned about the Fleet, never themselves._ "Good night, Ma'am." She stated.

"Try and rest after you complete the CAP, Captain." Roslin's smile was gentle and then she was halfway down the hall.

Kara watched the President for a moment, _Ordered Cottle, that would have been worth paying admission to see… _A smile spread across her face at the image. _And definitely not something that is seen every day. _But her comment regarding the Fleet's security issue did bother Kara. _What could be so important that Cottle would permit her entry immediately following surgery? And why haven't I heard about it? Lee… _Turning on her heal, she began cursing at Lee Adama for letting his personal feelings get in the way of doing his job. _Wait until I see him tomorrow! Not involving the CAG in security concerns…that frakking bastard…_

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

The President glanced at the Commander. "That is excellent news Commander." She finished reading the last few lines of the report. "And we do not have to drill for the water, its on the surface."

"That is correct Madame President. Our reports indicate that we can re-supply our water supply with minimal manpower." Adama stated.

"ETA for completion."

He cleared his throat, "Four days."

"I'll reallocate the supplies."

"Thank you Ma'am." He stood, ready to leave.

"Commander," She crossed her fingers, and paused noting her morning's coffee was still steaming. "The CAP. Why have you ordered to have the rotation altered?"

The Commander stopped dead in his tracks. _Starbuck._ "Ma'am?" He played innocent for a moment, wondering what Starbuck had told her.

"The CAP's rotation has been altered. Why?" She asked looking over the rim of her glasses.

Lee's collar suddenly felt very restricting and far too tight. He resisted the urge to pull on it, "20 hour shifts are too long for pilots to maintain. I have asked the CAG to work out a new rotation with a maximum of 16 hour shifts."

Roslin nodded, "Understandable."

"Thank you Ma'am." Lee sighed a moment, believing the questioning was done.

"How does the altered rotation affect our alert fighters?"

His chin crinkled, "Marginally." He responded in a heartbeat.

Again Roslin nodded, but this time her eyes became slightly smaller. "According to Colonel Tigh and Captain Thrace, our response time will be one full minute slower and we will only have 65 of our pilots available at any given time."

"Yes, Ma'am that is accurate. However," He stuttered for a moment, "They will be coherent and make less mistakes. We cannot afford to lose pilots."

The President sighed, "Commander, return the CAP to the previous rotation." Her voice became hard, "I understand we cannot afford to lose our pilots, nor can we lose anyone else within the Fleet." Eyes becoming steel, further lining her words, "There are not many of us left. However, our pilots' primary mission is to protect the Fleet at any cost. Sometimes they make the ultimate sacrifice and pay for it with their lives, but the Fleet lives on. Never lose sight of the goal Commander." She picked up another stack of reports, indicating the meeting was over. The Commander saluted, and as he turned she added almost as an after thought. "And Commander," He turned his head back to see her still reading her reports. "Deal with your personal issues regarding Captain Thrace before your judgments cost lives." As she finished, she glanced up from her material. Her eyes giving meaning to her words, and then just as quickly she was reading her pile of reports.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lee stopped by the Pilot's briefing room, verifying Starbuck's schedule. She was in her rack. In a heartbeat, Lee reached the senior officers quarters designated for pilots. He rapped once, no answer. Turning the hatch, he swung it open causing light to cascade into the room. He was about to enter, he wanted to enter, but he stopped himself when he saw Kara. She was passed out cold. His anger began ebbing away as he stood in the doorway for a moment, before sealing the hatch. _He'd deal with Starbuck later,_ he thought, _after she has had some sleep. _

Lee decided to utilize the time in a more productive way, he'd see his father. He walked the familiar halls, but in comparison to the Pegasus – everything here seemed so antiquated. _Careful, Lee…that antiquated stuff is what kept you alive._ His mind yelled out as he entered Sickbay.

Cottle motioned him over, "The Admiral just finished a breathing treatment. Give him a few minutes."

"How is he doing?" Lee asked wishing the privacy screen was down.

"He's missing part of his lung and being forced to do exercises that stress his lung. I'd say not well." Cottle shook his head, "And the antibiotics are not decreasing the infection, they are merely holding it at bay."

Lee's face showed his momentary panic. "Have you received what you needed from the Doctor Richards?"

"Yes, last night." He replied as the privacy screen slid back, revealing a haggard looking Admiral. Cottle departed, leaving Lee with his father.

Lee smiled tentatively and pushed the button down to speak into the room. "Hey Dad."

The Admiral nodded a hello. The absolute last thing he wanted to do at the moment was talk, even if it was his son. His lung, chest, his whole side was on fire.

"Glad to see you awake." Lee stated feeling utterly helpless. _He looks horrible,_ Lee thought, _and I doubt he feels any better than he looks._

Adama pushed the button, his voice was laden with quick breathing interspersing his words. "Good to…see you. Brings you…aboard?" He closed his eyes while waiting for Lee's response, praying his side would stop hurting for just a moment.

"A meeting with the President." He replied.

Adama allowed a chuckle to grace his lips as he nodded. "Morning…meeting."

_No sense of worrying him…_ "Yes, probably similar to what you deal with everyday."

The Admiral thought of yesterday's morning meeting, and the image of her sauntering into his shower without clothes instantly came to the forefront. _Gods I hope not, _the elder Adama mused knowing full well that their meetings were far different. "Probably." He stated aloud, not having the energy to discuss Lee's meeting farther.

The Commander noticed his father's attention was beginning to wane, "Dad, I'll see you this evening."

The Admiral nodded, his mind grasping onto yesterday mornings events to help curb the pain. Laura trusting him enough to speak about her imprisonment…anger coursed through him at the thought of someone hurting her helping to curtail the ebb for a moment. Thankfully, the moment lasted long enough for him to slip into a fitful sleep.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

CIC on the Galactica was humming along. The preliminary repairs from their initial Cylon encounter after leaving New Caprica were scheduled to be completed by the evening shift today. Colonel Tigh perused the logs for the past 8 hours. "Mr. Gaeta, will you contact the Fleet Captains and ask how their FTL drives operated with 3 back to back jumps."

"Yes, Sir." Gaeta headed over to communications and began scrambling the Civilian Fleet captains.

"Colonel," Helo's voice interrupted the thrum of CIC, "I have Commander Adama on the line."

"Put him through." Tigh jerked the receiver to his ear. "Actual here, go ahead Pegasus."

"Colonel," Lee took a deep breath, "When the CAG reports to duty, inform her we are returning to the previous CAP schedule ASAP."

"Yes, Sir." Saul responded, wondering if the President had bent his ear this morning too.

"Once implemented, have her shuttle to the Pegasus. Actual out." The line went dead.

Tigh hung up the receiver, feeling mildly sorry for the CAG. _Starbuck is going to be in for a ruff day. Not that the Commander's and CAG's friendship had survived this past year, but it constantly seemed one or both were doing their very best to drive additional spikes into it. Stubborn…both of them._ Shaking his head, _neither one can bury the hatchet long enough to repair their friendship, and that is the one thing they both desperately needed – each other's friendship. _

"Colonel." Gaeta's voice called out, "Cursory reports indicate that we had 3 vessels with FTL difficulties. I am dispatching maintenance teams to those vessels immediately."

"Excellent Mr. Gaeta." Tigh responded, "Begin prepping the next set of jump coordinates."

"Aye Sir."

Tigh picked up another set of reports, _please Gods enable the next few days to pass without incident._

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

Kara stepped off the shuttle more like a zombie than a soldier heading toward the Commander's office. Her eyes felt like someone had poured Ambrosia in them while she slept and a few grains of sand for added comfort. Saluting to the deck crew, she gloomily headed to her fateful encounter with Lee.

"Commander," Thrace wrapped on the door.

"Come in Captain." Lee's voice stated from the other room.

Thrace took a deep breath, _no matter what happens, keep it from getting personal_, Thrace's mantra continued as she entered. She stopped a few feet in the room, standing at attention.

Commander Lee Adama stepped away from the consul and closer to Starbuck. His jaw jutting out, searching for the words he wanted to say to her and not letting it get personal. "Captain, when you are given an order it is your responsibility to follow it. If you have a problem with that order, you must follow the chain of command."

Kara dug her nails into her other hand to keep from saying anything, except. "Yes, Sir."

Adama's voice became stronger, harder as he stepped closer. "And you do **not** involve the President regarding military issues." His face mere inches from hers. "Have I made myself clear?"

The Captain's jaw clenched and her eyes narrowed, "Yes, Sir." And then Thrace couldn't stop herself, the words were flowing from her mouth. "Everything except the part where the President of the Colonies can order the information, Sir."

It was Lee's turn for his jaw to clench. "Did she order you?"

Kara rocked back in her stance, and starred into his green eyes.

The color was beginning to rise in his neck, his voice becoming slightly out of control. "Captain…did she order the information from you?"

Her blond hair tossled to the side, "No Sir." She responded. "But that isn't really the point, is it…Sir."

Green…brown…starring, neither one willing to relent. An eternity passed until a machine chirped, Lee pulled away. "The CAP has been reinstated as previously outlined. Have it implemented immediately, Captain."

"Sir." She pulled herself into a salute.

"Dismissed." Lee took another step away.

Kara stood rooted to the spot for a minute, having an entire conversation in her head. "Permission to speak freely?"

"Granted." _This out to be good, _Lee thought steadying himself for the typical Starbuck onslaught.

"Lee, your personal problems with me are interfering with my ability to be the CAG."

"Kara, we've had our problems…but," His eyes narrowed, "that is going to the extreme."

She took a step closer, "Keeping high security information from the CAG is a problem Lee."

"What?" He drew himself up, utterly perplexed. "What are you talking about?"

"You, the President…" She looked at him, Kara pausing for a moment. "You don't know either."

Lee's face was a picture of curiosity, "No…I have no idea what you are talking about."

Kara shook her head, "Last night, I ran into the President in the Galley…" She kept going despite his arched eyebrow. "She stated she ordered the Doctor to see the Admiral. He didn't grant her access, but did when she told him about a Fleet wide security issue." Her brown eyes searching his. "You don't know what she's talking about, do you?"

_She knows me so well,_ he thought staring back at her brown eyes. "No. The President did not divulge anything to me."

"What the frak is going on?" Starbuck stated, her arm swinging at her side.

Lee shook his head, his mouth becoming taunt. "I don't know, but…" He locked eyes with Kara. "Why don't we find out?"

They exited the room in stride with the other. _Almost like old times…_they both mused on their way to the shuttle.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tory entered the Ward Room, "George stated they will have Colonial One ready this afternoon."

Roslin nodded, _this afternoon_, she thought. _That will make seeing Bill slightly problematic._ "Great." She replied with enthusiasm she didn't feel. "I'll pack my things today."

"Let me know when they are ready to be shipped to Colonial One."

"Thank you Tory."

Tory paused for a moment, desperately trying not to fidget. "Have you heard anything new regarding the Admiral?"

Roslin pulled off her glasses and looked at her assistant. "No Tory, I have not." She feigned a smile, "But I will be heading to sickbay for a short meeting with the Admiral if he is up to it. Have the press been hounding you?"

Tory nodded, "And…well after everything we have been through…" Her voice momentarily caught, "I don't know what the Fleet would do without his military expertise."

_Or without his presence…his love_, Laura added to herself before consoling her aide. "I spoke with him last night, and he is determined to make it."

"Yes Ma'am." She took an unsteady breath, "Just…if he doesn't…can you not place the Colonel in charge of the Fleet."

Laura tried to stop the laugh from bursting through her lips, but failed miserably. "I'll take that under advisement Tory."

"Madame President." Lee's voice and knock quickly deflated Roslin's giggles.

"Yes, Commander, come in." Roslin nodded to Tory as the Commander and Captain Thrace entered. "Please distribute these reports to the Quorum." She stated handing a stack of papers to Tory.

"Yes, Ma'am." She noticed the look on the Commander and Captain's face, and decided to remind the President of her schedule. "You have a meeting with Maya regarding placement for the Fleets' education system in 5 minutes."

Roslin quirked her eyebrow, "Thank you Tory." She turned to Adama and Thrace. "Yes?"

Lee jumped in without preamble. "What security concern regarding the Fleet was important enough to take to the Admiral, but not inform the acting Fleet Commander?"

The President of the Twelve Colonies merely curled her lips into a knowing smile, "Information that is not either of your concern at the moment."

"Ma'am," Thrace edged closer, "If it involves the safety of this Fleet, it is most definitely our concern."

Roslin leaned back into her chair, glancing at the two officers for a moment. _They had a strange relationship. Not quite a friendship, because there was something more just beneath the surface. Not brother and sister, too much tension. Not just sexual, they both needed more…she married Anders and within weeks he married Dee…_ "You are accurate Captain, if it is something that can be dealt with head on and with military force."

"This has to do with the Cylons." Lee stated.

Roslin pushed up her glasses, as she straightened in her chair. Her eyes locked with Lee's, and the pure honesty emanating from them took Lee by surprise. "Your father has just undergone massive surgery. I would not see him unless the matter was important."_ After all, what is more important than being with person you love? _She finished to herself.

Lee and Kara both nodded. Despite the President and Admiral's history, they cared a great deal for one another. "Is it something we can help to resolve?" Lee asked, wanting to help relieve his father of any additional stress.

The President's face remained a virtual mask, even Laura's twinkling eyes were hidden behind the façade. _Help resolve? _Laura mused. _A week on a Caprican beach, alone with Bill should resolve any issues…_ "The murder case." The President responded.

Lee and Kara looked at each other for a moment, what did the murder case have to do with Cylons? As if hearing their internal monologue, the President continued. "The Cylons are under the assumption Sharon's child survived."

"But she didn't." Thrace blurted out.

A knock at the hatch, "Madame President?" Delayed, Roslin's response.

"Come in Maya." _Irony, _Laura thought as the mother of Sharon's child entered her office. "Captain, Commander." She looked each of them squarely in the eye, "I cannot stress the importance of _resolving_ this matter immediately and quietly."

They both stood, "Yes Ma'am." They echoed and leaving Maya and the President deep in conversation about schools.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The meeting with Maya seemed to last forever, but the time was well spent. Maya was going to oversee the ragtag school system that entailed 5 classrooms throughout the Fleet. At the end of the meeting, she inquired about Isis and how she was transitioning to life amongst the stars.

"There isn't too much space for her to expel all of her energy." Maya then regaled the President with a few stories that ended with laughter echoing off the Ward room's metal walls.

"Thank you for coming by." The President shook Maya's hand. "And please stop by Colonial One this next week, I'd love to see Isis."

"It's ready?"

"Almost," The President smiled. "I'm transferring my belongings today."

"You probably can't wait to be back on the Colonial One." Maya's simple statement almost cracked through the President's façade.

With effort, Roslin kept the smile on her face, "Since coming back from New Caprica, everything has been an adjustment."

Maya nodded, "Yes it has. Isis and I will stop by this next week."

"Thank you Maya."

"Have a good afternoon Madame President." She was almost through the door, "Ma'am?"

Roslin glanced up, tucking a stray hair back. "Yes."

"Any news on the Admiral?"

The smile remained firmly in place as she shook her head no. "Not since yesterday evening." With that, Maya left – and Roslin pulled her glasses off placing her hands in her head. _Hold it together. Just a few more hours and you can go see him. Finish your schedule, get an official update from Cottle, hold a press conference…see Bill._ She recited to herself, as she reached for a pencil. She twirled it in her fingers for a minute, hearing his voice echoing across the ships decks…_"You know," Mischief in every syllable, "I also think I would add having time to read a few good books," … "An ample supply of Ambrosia, a cigar or two to share with Starbuck and, of course," The timber of his voice changing as it came closer to her, "a hanger deck of pencils."_

"Me too." She responded to the echoes, snapping the pencil in two.


	19. Things Left Useen

**Chapter 19 Things left unseen**

5th night after leaving New Caprica.

Lee and Kara left the Ward Room, and aimlessly meandered through Galactica talking about the murders and possible suspects. Kara angled to the galley, "Mind? Still hungry." 

Lee laughed as they entered the Galley. "Haven't changed."

She shook her head, "Nope. Sammy said I had an empty leg." She replied, surprised a knot didn't lurch in her stomach when she mentioned Sammy's name. She glanced at Lee...

"What'll you have Starbuck?" Corbin asked.

"A couple of sandwiches, make 'em warm." She turned to Lee, "Want anything from the 'Bucket' or have acquired the taste of the 'Beast's' food?"

"I'll have some of Corbin's food, any day." He replied. 

"You heard him, Corbin. Throw him a few sandwiches together, too." She leaned closer, "Make both of ours light on the sauces."

Corbin nodded, "Just like old times, huh Starbuck? Except of course watching the calories." He asked softly.

Kara picked up the plates, "Almost." She threw him a wink before sitting down across from Lee. "How long do you think Adama will be in Sickbay?" She asked biting into her warm sandwich.

He picked up his lunch, "What is this?" He asked his face crunching up to Kara's laughter.

"A New Caprican dish –"He raised his eyebrow in question, waiting for her to finish. "Slop."

Lee couldn't help bust out laughing. "I refuse…" He stopped short when she turned her head toward Corbin. "I'm eating…I'm eating." He relented quickly biting into the sandwich. _Despite the look, it was edible._ "I'm guessing as soon as the infection is under control."

They finished lunch, Kara opening up a little bit about New Caprica and Lee about life aboard a 'ghost ship'. They began walking back to the hanger deck, "Hold up," Kara veered into the Senior Officers quarters to change uniform tops. 

"Still hate laundry." Lee mumbled, pulling the door partially closed as she opened her locker.

"No." She cast him a look, "But no reason to make more work for myself." She mumbled pulling out a tattered top. She yanked her top off, chucking it onto her rack and slipped the tattered one on. She looked over at him, "Forget about us lowly folk who don't have our own quarters?"

He chuckled, "No, I haven't forgotten. Merely thankful to have my own space."

She drew up next to him, "I'm sure it would have benefits." She stated, eyes raised.

"It does," He replied softly, his gaze dropping to her lips. 

Kara felt her face flush at the mere thought of kissing him. "Lee…" She started to say, and then they closed the distance between them. Their underlining cause of their rocky relationship, their love for each other came crashing to the surface, demanding to be recognized. For the past twelve months, each unwittingly drove wedge after wedge into their relationship, crippling their friendship. However, their need for each other became consuming. The need to consummate their feelings and wash away the arguments and heated words, quickly drove all thought away as his hands grabbed her waist, hers pulling his face closer, lips crashing into each other. Wanting, needing to be closer; his hand slid up her back and hers around his neck as their kiss softened, yielding to a deeper passion. His tongue exploring her mouth as he backed her up against the hatch, sealing them in – her hands deftly unbuttoning his jacket wanting nothing more than to run them across his chest…and back.

"Commander Adama please report to the Flight deck." Helo's voice echoed throughout Galactica stopping all movement within the Officers' quarters.

Lee dipped his head in and gingerly kissed Kara on the lips, before stepping back. His eyes burning with passion as he struggled to regain his breathing, she reached up stroking the side of his face. He placed his hand over hers, and as they brought their hands down they stared at the wedding rings on both of their fingers – reality came rushing back.

She swallowed, taking a step to the side and putting a few more inches between them, causing their hands to separate. 

His eyes were tender, "Kara, I…"

She bit her lip, nodding. "I know. Me either." She placed her hand on the hatch, as she licked her suddenly parched lips. "Stays here."

Taking a deep breath, "Here." He replied.

Her body nodded and as she looked back to him, she released the hatch for a moment; fleetingly kissed his lips, before flinging the hatch open and heading to CIC to alter the CAP rotation. Leaving Lee Adama mirroring his father's actions yesterday, momentarily rooted to the spot before heading to the Flight deck. _His head swimming about Kara,_ and as he looked down at his hand, _Dualla. Lords of Kobol…_he sighed stepping onto the Flight deck,_ hear my prayer…_

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Laura felt the weight of the day lift off her shoulders as she approached Sickbay. Her hand shakily opened the door, her guard taking up post in the hallway. The all too familiar sound of sickbay greeted her ears as she spotted Cottle. He headed toward her, "Any change?" She asked as he neared.

Cottle's response was to merely steer her toward Adama's life station. She stopped when her eyes connected with his. He was propped up, not in a full sitting position, but not lying down either. Cottle discreetly pulled the privacy curtain around Adama's station as they stared at each other. Laura instantly noticed that someone had retrieved his glasses, as they were perched on his nose. She couldn't help the smile begin to spread across her face, nor could he. 

Hi, she mouthed.

He broke his smile, as he mouthed Hi back.

Laura turned to Cottle, "Can I go in?"

"Scrubs are in there," He pointed to the station next to the Admiral's. "I'll follow in 15 minutes." 

"Thanks Jack." 

"Last time I help anyone out…" He mumbled under his breath as she turned and went to exit the area, pausing at the side to indicate to Adama that she would be back within minutes. However, before he stepped into the rest of Sickbay, he couldn't help the grin from spreading across his face. _It was after all refreshing to see people truly in love._

xxxxxxxxxxx

Laura stepped through the sanitizer as she entered the life station. "How are you feeling?" She asked while approaching Bill.

"Better…than yesterday." He responded.

Pulling the chair closer, she sat down. "I'm not sleeping here tonight." She mumbled about the crick in her neck that still had not gone away.

His face softened, "How's…day?" 

They intertwined their hands, "Lousy." She pulled her glasses off, bring their hands up and leaning her check against his hand. "Yours?"

"Breathing treatments." His thumb brushed slightly against her cheek. He took a slightly deeper breath and winced. 

"You all right?" She asked noticing his pained expression.

His cobalt eyes twinkled, "Fine." He took another deep breath, "I just was relishing your perfume..."

Roslin felt the blush start in her neck, expanding up into her cheeks. "Thank you." She brushed her lips against the outside of his hand. "Are the treatments becoming easier?"

"No." He stated honestly. "Why was your day lousy?" His voice was soft.

She shook her head, "I don't want to worry you."

"No worries, except you." He squeezed his hand to illustrate the point.

"We still haven't found the murderer. One of the scout patrols found water, so we can restock our stores..." She continued a recount of her day, including the episode concerning Lee and the one with Lee and Kara. 

"We have to be careful…until we are ready." He stated.

She agreed and then stated another obstacle regarding their relationship. "Colonial One is ready. I've packed my items and they have all ready been sent over."

"So much for easily being discreet." He mumbled.

They heard the air recycle in the sanitizer, Cottle. But just in case, she sat up as they dropped each other's hands. 

Cottle's voice rounded the corner. "You are starting to show signs of improvement." Followed by his white scrubs and knowing smile, "The antibiotics are starting to decrease the amount of bacteria." _These are the instances when I like to be a doctor, no intern needed… _Cottle thought as the utter relief radiated from Adama and Roslin's faces. 

"How long until I can leave?" Adama asked.

"No soon enough." Came Cottle's reply, followed by, "If you continue to respond this well to the treatments, I may let you go to your quarters tomorrow night." Roslin leaned over, kissing Bill on the forehead. "As long as there are 'no activities' Admiral, until you are cleared." Cottle's statement drew a crimson blush from the two other occupants.

Bill recovering his voice first, "Just be happy to sleep… in my own rack."

Cottle's eyebrows raised, followed by a gruff, "Right."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

President Laura Roslin's feet did not touch the floor as she made her way through the halls of the Galactica. _Bill could be released tomorrow. Granted, he was far from being a 100 percent, but just being able to be near him…without the pretense or the scrubs._

"Laura…" A voice echoed down the hallway, causing the President and her guards to stop. "Laura!" And then she placed the voice as Dr. Gauis Baltar's face pounded around the corner. Very uncharacteristically, he was jogging toward her. When he realized she had stopped, he did too, his face mildly flushed and obviously winded from the excursion. "I…" He sucked in a deep breath as he readjusted his glasses. "I need a minute of your time." He glanced sidelong at her guards.

"If you'll wait at the end of the hall." Her face was stone, despite her personal feelings for Doctor Baltar, she knew he would never willingly run down the halls of any ship without a good, sane or otherwise, reason.

"Laura," Her name rolled off his tongue, causing an unpleasant shutter to ripple up Roslin's spine, "The murder's name is Jameson."

Roslin merely stared at Baltar for a moment, dumbfounded. _How…Why…_she cocked her head, composure securely in place. "And how do you know this?"

Six drew up around Gauis, "I don't know why you kept her alive…." She purred into his ear.

"Early this morning Jameson asked for a set of blood tests to be cross matched to a sample, once I…I looked at the sample test." He pushed his hair back from his face, "It had zero antigens, Hera's blood type." His eyes starred into Roslin's.

_The devil you know…_ Roslin felt her blood pressure rise as their eyes met. "Hera's blood?"

"I think he is a Cylon collaborator, they believe she is alive." 

"Oh…nice Gauis." Six maneuvered around to Roslin, leaning just enough inside so their hair almost touched. "Backing her into a corner."

Roslin's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, "She isn't." She stated succinctly. "However, if the Cylon's believe she is not. That is a problem."

"Yes, it is." Baltar replied eyeing Roslin. "He has a list of all of the children between ages 16 months to 24 months."

Roslin couldn't keep the shock from her face at the thought of what may happen to those parents and the children. "Do you know how many were on the list?"

Baltar kept his face passive, while thinking of his own list. "25 besides the two missing."

She took a deep breath, "25."

"Yes…" Baltar adjusted his glasses, "He also stated he had additional samples, and those children he had inoculated with some new Cylon vaccine when he procured the blood."

Absolute panic etched across Roslin's face, "Doctor." She grabbed his arm, "Do you know which children he has vaccinated?"

Gauis paused as if considering her words, "No…he only brought me the original blood tests this morning, and it did take a while to run the tests. It wasn't until after several drinks the origins of the samples were revealed. He stated he would bring more tomorrow."

"Do you know what ship he is on?"

"The Rising Star, I believe." Roslin was all ready turning to leave, "Don't you think we need to test all of the children…"

Roslin paused in step, "Immediately after Jameson has been apprehended. If you could join me in the Ward Room, Doctor." And she turned and headed back the direction she was coming from, mind racing. _What the hell was Baltar up to? _She rounded the corner, pausing only long enough to pick up the receiver in the hall to summon Colonel Tigh, Commander Adama and Captain Thrace to the Ward Room, immediately. _And why did she have a __**really**__ bad feeling about the whole scenario. _Sighing, she steeled herself for the next couple of hours. _After all, _she mused, _it was going to be a long un-pleasurable night. _She stepped through the Ward Room hatch, wishing to be next to Bill in Sickbay, but those images were swept away as Doctor Baltar entered the room, followed by Captain Thrace.

"Ma'am?" The Captain asked, as her eyes hesitantly switched to Balter. Her eyes speaking volumes to the President. _What the frak is this weasel in the room for?_

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Bill starred at the door Laura recently left through, his heart skipping a beat at the mere thought of when she would be back. _Probably not for a few hours, _he thought, _she is just as tired if not more so than you. Hold on, Laura. _Adama's attention was diverted as the aides were frantically moving throughout sickbay. They were on heightened alert. Cottle slammed the phone on the receiver, their eyes meeting across the room._ What the frak was going on? _Worry was emanating from the Doctor, _and was Laura okay?_


	20. Balter's Plans or Not?

Chapter 20 Baltar's Plans or not

**Chapter 20 ** Baltar's Plans or not?

The fifth morning after leaving New Caprica

Starbuck pushed her wet locks and sweat from her face as she reached for her comm radio, "Starbuck to Apollo, man down. Repeat, man down." She stated, turning her attention away from the man, Jameson's body to Jackson's. Neal was applying pressure on Jackson's chest where the round had struck him.

"Is Jameson alive?" Apollo's crackled over the radio.

Shaking her head, "Negative." She stated as she knelt beside Jameson and began looking for additional clues as to what his intentions were regarding the Fleet's children. There was the remnants of a Caprican cigar, _Baltars' type_, she thought to herself as she opened a small piece of paper. It had a handful of names scrawled on the paper.

Aloysi Deghn – Elsi

Marien Iglsia – Laura

Kathrine Heish – Nesya

Emma Colm – Carol

Maya – Isis

Tarah Wilks – Marion

The last item Jameson had on him was an old fashioned key. Starbuck inspected it for any distinguishable markings; they had all been filed off. It was just a key. Snatching the key, along with the other items, Starbuck strode down the corridor to the transport.

_What the frak was the key for? _She wondered, twirling it through her fingers as she nodded to Racetrack upon entering the raptor. _And why was Baltar concerned with 25 children when his list only contained 6? Unless…_her thoughts were torn_…was there another list or was this Baltar's plan?_

"Sir," Racetrack stated, "Galactica has a second raptor on standby to retrieve…"

Starbuck interrupted, her voice – firm. "We are not disembarking without Jackson. He will need every second available if we are going to save him."

Racetrack glanced back to say something to the Captain, but the look in her commanding officer's face stopped her short. _Her Captain was right. What was another minute, anyway? Jackson deserved the best chance to live, just like everyone else. _Racetrack swallowed, hard. _Besides, after New Caprica, there are even fewer of us left._

Footsteps and shouting voices yanked both Starbuck and Racetrack from their perspective reveries.

"Racetrack, get the Raptor warmed up." Neal's voice was strained. Captain Thrace ducked out of the Raptor to see Neal and Tipton carrying Jackson on a medical board.

"Get clearance to depart, ASAP." Thrace threw over her shoulder as she moved to help pull Jackson's body aboard the Raptor.

"Aye, Sir." Racetrack was all ready in motion, hands flying over the pre-flight checklist.

The sealed engaged and the light turned green, "Ready." Neal stated and within seconds the raptor shuddered and was off.

"Contact Galactica, and have Cottle standing by." Thrace stated as she took a seat and watched Neal continually apply pressure to the wound. Jackson's gear was covered in blood, and for a second all Kara could see was Lee lying in his place. Blinking a few times, and trying to purge the demon of a nightmare she turned back to see…Lee, blood spilling from his right side as he slowly fell to the ground. Eyes latching onto hers, portraying the horror and shock of what had happened. _Lords of Kobol_, Kara closed her eyes as she took a steadying breath, _hear my prayer. _Another deep breathe. _Thank you again for saving Lee. _Breathe._ Let Jackson live to see another day._ She paused for another moment before opening her eyes, bracing herself for Jackson's bloody body. Upon opening, she noted that Neal and Tipton remained intent on treating Jackson's wound. _He'll be okay, _she thought, forcing her attention on Jameson and Baltar's connection. _Somehow, someway he is involved. _Her fingers touched the familiar form of the Caprican cigar, her eyes bunching together. _I just don't know how…And that is a problem._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The room was entirely too small for Dr. Gauis Baltar and Dr. Laura Roslin to be in a heated debate. The metal walls echoing their words to an even higher pitch, causing the other occupants to wince each time the other opened their mouth.

"I will not raise a Fleet wide alert."

"Not to do so, would be irresponsible."

"Hardly," She leaned over the table, palms flat on the surface, giving her the appearance of a lioness awaiting her prey's mistake – ready to pounce. "The matter is closed, Doctor." She stated in an eerily calm voice.

"Gauis…" Six's voice was hard, determined; but not as resolute as her face.

Baltar pushed up his glasses and ran a hand through his hair. "Shhh…" He mumbled to himself as he asked, "When will Cottle be running the blood tests?"

"As soon as we finish and Doctor Cottle is briefed. Once the tests show no blatant abnormalities, he'll send over the blood samples to your lab."

Baltar straightened ever so slightly, "I will make it my top priority once I receive the samples. And will inform you immediately if I detect any irregularities that may be attributed to Cylon manipulation."

"Thank you, Doctor."

He shook his head once and nodded. "Ma'am." He gritted out and for a brief moment olive and grey eyes met and then he was through the hatch, a smile erupting on his face.

"Brillant." Six stated, raking her fingers through his hair.

"Yes," His elation evident, "I know."

Her smile radiated to her eyes as they walked through the corridor, back to his lab. "Access to all of the blood samples…"

Baltar raised his hands in triumphant glory, "With no hard, tedious work."

"Hmmm…" Six followed him as he opened the hatch, "Sounds like we should take a celebratory break…" She stated, pushing him against the hatch – sealing it closed.

"Yes…" Baltar agreed, feeling her long, lithe body lean into him. "Marvelous…" He turned into her tantalizing lips that had begun to rake across his neck, "idea." Mouths crashing into each other, demanding, searching, but not yielding. Gauis shifted, spinning Six against the wall, her red strapless dress a stark contrast to the gunmetal grey. Her fingers tenderly stroking his chest as his hands slid across her shoulders until touching the vibrant material. Leaning over, his kisses followed the path of his fingers as he began to slip the straps off, inch by inch. He could feel her fingers yanking his shirt free, his buckle loosen…

The hatch moved and Gauis yanked himself away from the wall. His heart pounding, trying to instantly re-adjust his blood flow as jammed his shirt back into his pants while buttoning in one swift move.

"Doctor Baltar?" Thrace's voice stopped as she rounded the hatch and her eyes landed on him. Baltar finished standing as he tucked his glasses into his jacket pocket.

Tapping his pocket, he smiled. "Dropped them." Gauis' eyes stopped momentarily on Six's creamy skin and the red puddle lying on the floor, before snapping onto Thrace's eyes. "What can I do for you?"

"The President would like you to send the two blood samples to Doctor Cottle, ASAP."

Baltar kept his face impassive as he rounded the other side of the lab, "Of course." He bent over and picked up the samples, "Here." He went to hand them to her, and as she reached to retrieve them, he couldn't help his fingers trace the edge of her wrist.

"Thank you, Doctor." Thrace ignored his caress as she pocketed the samples.

"Tell me something Captain." His query momentarily stopping her. "Do you honestly believe Jameson was a master mind?"

Thrace turned her head, ever so slightly causing a few blond locks to fall on the corner of her face. "No, Doctor. But we'll find the person behind it." _Sooner or later, and if it's you – I hope its sooner. _She finished in her head as she headed toward Sickbay.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Cottle and Roslin simultaneously stepped into Adama's vent chamber, without donning scrubs.

"Madame President…." Cottle started, but was unsuccessful as she threw right back.

"I am not repeating this twice, nor do I have time to waste with your protocol, Doctor."

Cottle was about to retort, when they both stopped and looked over to see a very amused Admiral. His eyes twinkling from laughter, while his face remained expectant. "It's a damn good thing the Admiral was going to be moved from this chamber this afternoon, otherwise, I'd have to decontaminant the entire room. And," He turned back to Roslin, driving the point home. "That protocol is what saves," Cottle pointed back to Adama. "Lives. Now, what is so Gods damn important?"

Roslin took an extra second, swallowing the sudden lump in her throat. _Not the smartest thing you've done._ With a mental shrug, she went on. "We discovered and during capture, killed the murderer, child kidnapper." Cottle stepped to his other foot, as this was old news. He had just spent the last hour in surgery saving one of the strike force marines. "However…" She launched into the details regarding the children, possible infection or virus being spread amongst them, and the high probability of either a Cylon or Cylon collaborator behind the treachery. "And then there is Doctor Baltar."

Adama took a slow breath, speaking for the first time. "How do we know…he isn't behind it?"

Laura crossed her arms in front of her, as the image of his face flashed before her. Smug, content and eyes haughty with laughter, just before he stepped out of the Ward Room less than half an hour ago. "Bill, you know how I fell about Baltar."

Cottle piped up, "He's a lunatic." And then as an after thought mumbled, "And unfortunately brilliant."

_That is the only thing keeping him out of jail._ Laura responded, her voice strained. "There is no questioning he skates close to the line in regards to sanity, but he is our only expert regarding Cylons we have."

"I'll review the blood, Madame President." Cottle stated.

Roslin nodded, "I was already counting on that, but I need him to look at the blood samples, just in case you miss something Jack." Her eyes barely able to meet his.

Cottle hurumphed, "Quite possible, I have no idea what I am looking for."

"The real question…" Bill stated as he sucked in another breath, "Is do we trust him enough to give them all of the samples?"

In unison, all three shook their heads. "No," Laura spoke first, "I believe, whoever devised this scheme believes Hera is alive."

"What better way to find her, than through blood samples." Cottle's response was too close to the truth.

"He is one of four people who know…. that Hera's blood does not contain any antigens." Adama stated.

Silence stretched across the room. Not one of them liked where this line of thinking was leading them. Not one of them trusted Baltar, and it wasn't a big jump for Adama and Roslin to believe he contrived this plan to get his hands on Hera's blood, but the proof…

"How long will it take you to collect all the children's blood?" Roslin asked.

"If we make it appear routine, ensuring Fleet safety…" He stated, and as Roslin and Adama nodded at his first comments, he continued. "Then we'll need to collect every child's blood under the age of three." He paused, pulling a cigarette pack out of his pocket. "Barring no Cylon incursion or other incident…forty-eight hours."

Taking a deep breath, Roslin took the three steps to stand behind the chair, handing resting on the back, holding her upright. _Lords, am I tired._ A stray thought wisped through as she turned to face the two men in the room. "We have 2 days to come up with a loophole gentlemen."

Cottle placed the white stick in his mouth, "Wrong." He pulled out his lighter and headed to the exit, "You two have two days. I'm going to be collecting blood. Five minutes, and then I'm sending a tech in to assist the Admiral to his quarters." And with that, he was through the sanitizer, cigarette smoke following his wake as he drew the curtain around Adama and Roslin.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Adama paused, as did his entourage, as the guard opened his hatch door. He barely nodded at the guard upon entry, he was out of breath and far too tired. Until this past year, Adama could not recall Sickbay being so far from his quarters. However, after his incident in CIC and this subsequent one, he was beginning to re-think Sickbay's location. _Perhaps I need to move Sickbay…closer,_ he thought as he paused at his desk.

Rysha placed his medicine on his desk, "You need to take two of the antibiotics, every 6 hours. If you need any pain medication, it is in the smaller bottle. Never take more than 2 per twelve hour cycle." Rysha stopped for a moment, wondering if he had heard her at all. The Admiral's face appeared unfocused…

He sucked in another quick breath. "Thanks." He stated, hoping he stayed conscious long enough for her to exit his cabin.

Laura sensed Bill's unease and Rysha's apprehension. Roslin placed a gentle hand on Rysha's arm. "I'll make sure the Admiral gets his medicine." She smiled, "Even if I have to come back in six hours." Rysha cracked a small smile, "What else?"

"Admiral Adama has to complete a breathing treatment every two hours." Rysha set a small black back down, beside the two pill bottles. "And Doc Cottle will be here at 20:00 sharp." She looked hesitantly at the black bag and then back at the Admiral, whose skin had grown even paler. "Cottle will know if the breathing treatments are being done."

"Anything else?"

The girl shook her head. "Thank you, Rysha." Roslin stated, "For all of your help." Rysha's stature grew ever so slightly as she turned to leave, but then stopped just inside the hatch. "Thank you." She pulled her gaze up to meet both the Admiral and President's formidable eyes. "For saving us." Her eyes sparkled, "And Admiral, it is wonderful to see you about."

Adama waited until the hatch cycled close before stray tears slid out of his eyes, splattering onto the desk.

"Bill?" Laura looked into his face, but then felt his left arm snake around her waist and pull her close. "You alright?" She asked wanting nothing more to melt against him.

"Mmmhhhmmm." He breathed heavily against her cheek, "Tired and…"

"Soar." She completed, lightly running her hand down his back.

"Very much, but…" He looked down at her, catching her eyes. "I'll endure for another moment to have you…next to me."

Complete tenderness encompassed his eyes through the pain, as they stared into her grey ones. She smiled and gently raised her hand, stroking the side of his face. The expression on his face, the tenderness of his embrace, _he is going to be alright_, her mind stated as she stared into his cobalt eyes. Love emanating from its depths.

Relief. Two days of worry that Bill would not live began to fade away as relief began to effervescently spread throughout her body. Tears burned her eyes, joy spreading her smile, "I am so glad…" A tear dripped off her lash, "Bill…I was so worried." Her fingers brushed across his lips.

Adama's eyes mirrored Roslin's, "I told you, I'd never leave." His voice rasped.

She nodded as another tear slid down her cheek, "Yes…" Her voice cracked, "but I was worried that the Lords would take you away."

A smile broke across his olive face, "And the heavens ceased as Zeus first laid eyes upon Athena…" His finger brushed away locks of her auburn hair. "Surely, the Lords would not take away my Athena…"

Amusement danced through her eyes, "Athena…"

"Mmmhmmm." He replied.

Her fingers slid up his face, toying with his hair. Light still dancing in her eyes, "Whom else would I fall for, other than you…Zeus."

He tried to smile, but the pain was beginning to offset his joy of holding her, being by her. "Laura…I need…"

Laura knew he needed to lay down, his strength was spent and began steering him to his rack. "When was the last breathing treatment?"

"Not long ago." He mumbled, leaning against the bulkhead next to his rack.

She helped pull the robe off his shoulders, "What time?" She asked again as his back became exposed.

"11:30." He stated, pulling the covers back and gently easing himself into his rack.

Laura stood rooted to the spot as she watched him gingerly climb into his rack. Every movement a chore. But the large white dressing, covering his right side stung at her heart. _Lords, please do not make Bill endure any more, _she pleaded. At seeing him eyeing her, she smiled. "I'm going to be in the main part of your cabin for a bit."

He pulled off his glasses, setting them behind him. "Sure?" He patted the bed beside him.

She shook her head, "Tonight." She responded.

He nodded, understanding; eyes already closing from the fatigue. Before he drifted off to sleep; he felt her lips upon his – solid, lively, passionate and very intense. An accumulation of love, worry, and relief dancing across his lips before exhaustion claimed him.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this snippet and many thanks for the reviews -


	21. Love, Keys, and Heartache

Chapter 21 Love, Keys, & Heartache

**Chapter 21 Love, Keys, & Heartache**

Laura heard the soft knock on the hatch, quietly she padded over and opened it. The guard responded, "Ma'am, Commander Adama is here to see the Admiral."

Laura nodded before returning to the inner sanctuary of Adama's cabin. She heard the guard grant the Commander entry.

Within moments, Lee stepped into his father's cabin and was greeted by the warm smile of President Roslin. The lights were dimmed throughout most of the cabin, save for the desk lamp.

"You look tired, Madame President." Lee stated without preamble.

Roslin pushed up her glasses, hoping to hide some of the dark circles undoubtedly forming. "As do you, Commander." She replied.

His face quirked into a smile, "An emergency meeting, a strike team, debriefings…" Humor lacing his blue eyes, "Didn't have time to catch a few hours of shut eye. You?"

_You are more like your father than either of you believe, _she chuckled. "I am shocked you didn't notice, Commander. I hardly recall my meeting with Doctor Baltar, slept straight through."

Lee rocked back in laughter, before turning serious. "You need to get some sleep, Ma'am."

Roslin nodded, "I will – later." She glanced at the clock, Lee following her gaze.

"Is he sleeping?" His eyes strayed to his father's inner chamber.

She shook her head, "Has been for almost an hour and a half."

Lightly he touched her arm, "I can stay for a bit…besides, he'll be a bear to wake up and might as well have him be agitated with me."

Laura's smile was genuine, _Your chivalry is commendable, but you do make it difficult…_ "Well, you are in luck. I was about to wake him, momentarily, for his breathing treatment." Lee cringed as she finished her statement. "But your arrival is timely…you can help."

"I'd…" He swallowed, "love to. What time were you going to wake him up?"

She flipped on an additional light, "Two minutes ago." _I am definitely enjoying this too much. _

_Great, _Lee thought, _help him with his dreaded breathing treatment. He'd heard how much his father loved those…_

Laura squashed the laugh and decided to take pity on Commander Adama. "I told him I'd wake him for his breathing treatment, so why don't you get the machine prepared?"

Relief washed over his face, "I, uhhh, you sure?" He asked, praying she'd say yes. She pulled her glasses off and nodded, before heading into Bill's bedroom. Lee turned and pulled the machine out of the black bag, his mind on the woman waking his father. _They have a strange relationship, _he thought. _They have managed to become friends despite the pitfalls they thrust in front of each other, the Cylons, the pressures of their jobs and how they are constantly at each other's throats to do their jobs. Their positions and responsibility isolating them from the rest of the Fleet, even him. Lee knew his father would not discuss some issues with him, Roslin was probably the only one he could talk to at times. And yet…in many ways they have become the solid ground beneath each other's footing. Supportive, some times harshly honest and thoroughly critical, but always with the understanding and knowledge that they would be there for the other._

He turned his head, glancing into his father's bedroom, for a moment longer letting his mind wonder. _Hmm, I wonder if either has thought about pursuing their relationship past the platonic…surely they must feel something a bit more than friendship…_ Lee aligned the controls, a smile spreading across his face. _I wonder how much life around here would change if they could finally reconcile their differences…_ He heard a grumble from the dark room. _She'd definitely keep 'the Old Man' on his toes, and that alone would be a sight to see…_ His ruminations were cut short as his father steadied himself against the doorway.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Bill." She whispered his name, silently thanking and cursing Apollo at the same time. _He'll be glad to see him, but he won't want to show any weakness._ "Bill." She purred against his ear.

"Mmhhmm. Lau…" His words were cut short with a tender kiss.

She leaned back, tracing his jaw line, "Sorry to wake you…"

His cobalt eyes latched onto hers. "Not a bad way…to wake up." His gravelly voice barely a whisper.

Eyebrow raised, she leaned closed to him, words dancing across his skin. "I can think of better ways…" She stated, "But not with your son in the next room."

"Lee's here?" His voice seemed to get stronger almost harder.

"Five minutes ago." Laura pulled his glasses down, handing them to him as he maneuvered to sit up. "He's being chivalrous and making sure I get some sleep."

"Thanks." Bill adjusted his glasses, "When did you sleep last?" He asked, gazing into her slate colored eyes.

"Yesterday." She held up her hand to stop his lecture, "I know. I had Tory clear my schedule today," She felt his hand interlace with hers.

He sighed, "Lee…" _The irony of it all, _he thought, _two years ago, he never would have given my injury credence now...he was glad he was here. But just for the day, he would be content to lay next to the woman he loved._

He mumbled under his breath as he finished standing. He felt her hand on his chest, and he paused.

"You have a breathing treatment." Her voice sounded remorseful.

Bill felt his mood quickly sour, _a breathing treatment…_ but the look in her eyes brought that train of thought to an instant stop. _You are alive and healing._ He told himself, _besides what is a little breathing treatment?_ His body cringed at the mere concept, but he nodded none the less.

She moved to his closet, grabbing a robe and helped it on him. He stole another kiss before he exited, leaning heavily on the door frame for support. _After all, _he mused, _he just had an angel in his arms. _

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

Lee took the final few steps separating them, gently embracing his father as relief flooded through him. He pulled back, tears in his eyes, "Dad, its good to see you."

Adama smiled, placing a hand on his son's shoulder. "You too son."

Light spilled in from the room behind, Lee noticed Roslin exiting the head before the light vanished.

Adama took a quick breath, "I was informed I had a breathing treatment I needed to wake up for."

"Yes…" Roslin's voice came up from behind Adama. "And now you are dawdling."

Father and son looked at each other, "I think Cottle enlisted her." Lee stated, walking beside his father.

Adama merely looked over his glasses at Lee, his eyes speaking volumes.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Twenty minutes later….

Roslin watched as Bill struggled to finish the final part of his treatment, her heart being torn out with every one of his breaths. The machine clicked – one more – and it forced him to expand his chest, his lungs…sweat beading on his forehead from the excursion, pain lancing his cobalt eyes. Bill's eyes latched onto hers…and she forced herself not to glance away as he held his breath for the required time. _Pain…_and then as he exhaled, relief washed over their eyes.

Laura looked over at the ghostly image of Lee, who was barely keeping himself pulled together – and almost jumped through his skin as the machine clicked off. Lee was fumbling trying to help Adama out of the machine, and as he laid the last piece down – Bill rested his hand on Lee's. Father and son locked eyes, "I'm okay…" He wheezed out.

Lee's jaw involuntarily locked, but he blinked away the tears and nodded. He bit his lip, but continued on. "Dad…I love you."

Adama grasped Lee's head and brought it to rest against his – forehead to forehead, eyes gleaming through his glasses. "I love you, Lee. And…I am not going…anywhere."

Roslin felt the tears running down her face as the last walls between father and son came crashing down. Old wounds washed away, leaving only the bonds that mattered…family and love.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Kara tossed the key into the air again. _Frak._ She caught it with her right hand, instantly flipping it back into the air. _Frak…there are only so many places this fits_. This time with her left, and then back into the air. _Think, Kara. _Then with her right. _Where have you seen locks?_ Her left. _Some type of locker – like the old style gym lockers?_ Right. _Nah, to large._ Pausing she shifted her weight, causing her rack to move. _Where?_ She looked at the key…_Something between a door and a locker…_She flipped it back into air. _Think!_ Again with her right hand. _THINK._ Her left._ THINK!_ Right, the alarms sounded and Helo's voice resonated off Galactica's officers' quarters.

Kara Thrace was closing the hatch behind her, as Helo finished calling condition 1. Thrace bolted to the flight deck – the key enclosed in her left hand as she slipped into the sleeve of her flight suit.

The deck gang alive with movement as the readied the Vipers for their pilots. Kara saw Tyrol shouting instructions to his crew, keeping a semblance of order amongst the mayhem of a Cylon attack.

She popped up into her cockpit, slipping her helmet on, locking it down – her gloves; pre-flight…the deck gang moving her into the launch tubes… "Three…two…" Her mind jumped to the storage containers on Rising Star_, The containers; the key…_ "one. Launch." And her Viper shot our of the tube, "Galactica CAG to Pegasus Actual."

"Pegasus Actual." Dualla's voice sounded.

A moment of worry spun through Kara, _where was Lee?_ "Dee is Commander Adama or President Roslin available?"

Dualla fought the urge to make a snide remark back to Starbuck about not knowing who was or wasn't onboard her own ship_. _"They are aboard the Galactica Starbuck."

"Thank you. CAG out." Starbuck saw the three raiders were less than 15 seconds away. "Going weapons hot. Hotdog, Jaxs, and Buster by the numbers."

"Aye Sir." They stated simultaneously, and opened fire on the incoming raiders.

Starbuck didn't respond as she yanked her throttle back and spun her ship around, re-engaging a raider. "CAG to Galactica Actual."

"Splash two." Jaxs' voice echoed over the comm. channel.

"This is Actual." Lee's voice sounded strained, "Go ahead."

Kara stopped her mutterings as she tried to get a clear shot, "Tyrol has the key…frak me…Come on!..." Her finger depressed the trigger, desperately shooting at the raider. "Lee….the containers on the Rising Star….FRAK!" The line went dead.

Lee yanked the phone down, turning to the dradis screen. The pilot's chatter confirming his worse fears. "I repeat, Starbuck's down."

"Splash three."

"We have a lot of debris."

"Get a search and rescue Raptor to her last known coordinates." Tigh stated in eerily silent CIC.

"Sir?" Helo's voice questioned. "The rest of the Fleet?"

Tigh felt his jaw flex, and he turned to the Commander who was gripping the dradis as a lifeline. "I recommend the Pegasus jump with the Fleet…" Tigh's voice stopped as Adama straightened, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes.

He cleared his throat, "I concur Colonel. Search and rescue deployment, ASAP. They've got 15 minutes, and then we jump too." The words' were slicing through his heart, _Kara._

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A/N; Here is the next installment; many thanks to Lady Henrietta & Mariel for your reviews!!


	22. Luxuries

Chapter 22 Luxuries

**Chapter 22 Luxuries**

"Dradis contact, bearing three-two-three mark six." Gaeta announced as he acquired additional information. "Two Basestars."

Lee felt his jaw clench, mirroring Tigh's. "How long until the S&R is back on board?"

"Four minutes." Helo announced.

Lee looked at the dradis; his mind churning with viable options. "Launch the Alert fighters; and tell them I want ALL of them docking in four minutes – as we do not have the luxury of another S&R."

"Aye sir."

Adama glanced at the clock; _Four minutes. Come on…_he felt his hand clench, knuckles turning white. _Make it back – you have got to make it back Kara, as do the rest of the pilots. _

"Incoming." Gaeta announced momentarily before the ship shook; circuits sparking – smoke emanating from within CIC.

"Rotate the firing solution to the Basestar on their port axis." The Commander ordered. The Galactica's guns focusing on one Basestar – momentarily exposing the starboard side. "Inform the Viper's to clear our starboard side."

"Aye Sir."

Lee watched as the dradis configured the new deployment.

"Opening forward batteries."

"Fire." The CIC broke into commotion as they carried out his orders; and then Helo stated above the ambient noise; "Sir, S&R has landed."

Tigh didn't wait; he grabbed the phone, ordering all Vipers to return to the Galactica.

"Continue firing forward batteries." Lee stated; anxiously watching the dradis. One by one the Vipers disappeared from the screen, coinciding with Helo's count down of the remaining Viper pilots.

"Five….Four…"

"Nav computer." Gaeta's voice mixing in the noise as he prepared the Galactica to jump.

"Go."

"FTL."

"Go."

"Three…Two…"

"All systems ready for FTL jump."

"….One…"

"Secure landing bays." Adama ordered.

"Secured." Gaeta stated.

"Jump." Adama felt the all too familiar pull of the FTL, the screen before him blanked for a moment before it read the surrounding star system and ships within the area.

"Colonial transponders – all here and accounted for."

"Did we loose any pilots?" Adama asked, turning to Helo.

Helo smiled while replying, "No, sir."

For a moment he sighed, and then he turned to Tigh, "You have the deck, Colonel. I will be returning to the Pegasus, shortly."

"Aye Sir."

With that Lee headed for the hanger deck – but first he thought he'd stop by sickbay and see Kara.

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Adama stepped through his quarters, his shoulders instantly slumping in the sanctity of his own space. The walk to sickbay had been arduous – the return trip twice as slow and onerous. His side felt as though a Cylon had ripped it apart – burning with each breath; but he'd willingly make the trip a thousand times to see her. _After all_, he mused, _she was his family. And despite making it back in one piece, Kara was going to need help to move on. She needed to know that she was still loved...still a part of a family that would miss her terribly if something did happen to her. She knew this, but it needed reinforced. Everyone needed it reinforced, they had been through so much these past few weeks. Hell, this past year and a half. _

_However,_ _if Hades were a planet; the Lords of Kobol would have called it New Caprica. It had been Six days…our seventh night since leaving New Caprica, and so little has changed…. We are on the run, with little space, almost no resources, ever present danger ….And yet so much has changed… 41,000 souls, the fall of one president – the rise of another…_

Carefully he lowered himself to his couch, and felt a warmth begin to soothe his weary soul when his eyes rested on Laura's handwriting. _Laura._ Taking a breath, he could still smell her soft perfume in the air. Involuntarily, his hand brushed where she last sat, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips while he continued his internal musings.

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Laura stepped off the Raptor, bag in tow, and headed toward Bill's quarters. The past 2 days had been a whirlwind, and she was counting down each step until she reached her sanctuary. Laura was visualizing kicking off her heels, peeling her day old jacket off, and falling into his all too comfortable for standard issue rack.

"Madame President." Tory's voice came from around the corner.

Laura tried to keep her shoulder's from sagging at the sound of her assistant's voice, but by the look on Tory's face indicated she had been unsuccessful.

"I am deeply sorry to disturb you, however, I just received a message from Mr. Zarek."

Roslin felt herself pull her exhausted shoulders back, "And?"

Tory drew her eyes up to the President, barely managing to keep her face blank. Ms. Roslin's normally porcelain face was lined with dark circles, the luster of her hair diminished, and the cadence of her voice on the verge of shaky – she was drained, and despite the President's best efforts, it was showing. A feint smile broke Tory's face, because for once, she didn't have bad news to give. "He wanted to remind you about tomorrow. And asked where the ceremony was going to be held?"

Laura felt the tension in her muscles relax, "I am on my way to confirm with the Admiral that the use of Galactica will be permissible for the ceremony."

Nodding, Tory merely asked, "Shall I inform Mr. Zarek and the remaining members of the Quroum that you will be sworn in as President on the Galactica at 1pm."

Laura smiled back, "Yes, unless you hear otherwise. I doubt there will be an issue with us utilizing the Ward Room, but I want to be sure."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Anything else?"

"Only that I cleared the rest of your schedule until after the ceremony tomorrow. And what time shall you be returning to Colonial One?"

"I am going to speak with the Admiral for a some time, and I…" The President was too tired to be coy, "Believe I am going to accept the Admiral's hospitality for an evening. His accommodations are far more luxurious than mine."

"Ma'am?" Tory took a half step forward, not quite believing what the President was saying. She had known the two were close, but…

Laura couldn't help the smile spread across her face while she finished her statement, _Tory's face was priceless_. _And as much as Laura wanted to shout out her feelings for the world to hear; neither she or Bill were ready for that. They were a long way from reveling their new found relationship, especially when they still had things to work out for themselves. A lot of them…_Laura laid her hand on the young lady's shoulder. "He has offered many times the use of his quarters and he would make other accommodations. I am going to see if the option is available with one condition I can have his couch for an evening." She took another step toward the Admiral's quarters. "It is more comfortable than my usual sleeping arrangements, and there are no calls unless it is patched through the CIC since Cottle has him on restricted duty." Roslin felt the smile she had before Tory's mild interruption emerge, "A few hours of peace."

Tory nodded, "I'll inform Colonial One that business on the Galactica will have you here quite late."

"Thank you, Tory." And with those simple words, she turned and quickly made short work of the remaining distance to Bill's quarters. She didn't bother to knock, she turned to the hatch, entering her sanctuary. "Bill?" She questioned, but stopped once she saw him leaning back on the couch. Without a second thought, she closed and sealed the hatch.

"Hello." Bill stated, leaning forward a bit while pulling on his glasses.

"Ahhh…" She sighed, kicking her shoes off. Glancing up, Laura felt the weight from the past few hours diminish, relief washing over her face. "How are you feeling?" She asked between yawns.

"Tired, but I know you….are exhausted." He held out his hand to her.

She accepted sitting down next to him, setting the bag next to them on the couch. "This feels nice." Sighing, she leaned against him. Allowing his warmth to spread through her too.

He wrapped his arm around her, his hand toying with the bag straps, as her head nestled into his shoulder. "What's in the bag?"

He felt her head move to the side, "Hey," She swatted his hand away. "That is private property." She turned her head, locking eyes. "Office of the President…"

His eyebrows arched, "Really?" He moved to take the bag, but she jumped off the couch with the bag in tow.

"Mmhhmm." Opening the bag slightly and looking into it, a child like smile spread across her face. "Actually, there are a few things stashed in here for you." She looked up from her treasured bag into his amused eyes.

Adama wished he were not nursing his body back to health, as several vivid images of him pouncing on her, taking away her treasure and then slowly, tenderly driving her mad rushed through his mind. None of which were feasible in his current state, as the force necessary to move quick enough to catch her would leave him breathless and not in Cottle's good graces. "And pray tell, what have you stashed in the bag?"

"Stashed?"

"Yes, stashed."

"Bill," The smile fell from her face as her tone turned serious. "We went to the Rising Star and found Jameson's container that fit the key." She finished staving off another yawn.

Bill leaned forward, curious. "And?"

Her fingers curled around the contents on the inside of the bag. "We found, this…" Pulling the object into view, Adama's eyes rested on a full bottle of Ambrosia Spice with the silver Sagittarian label. Laura's smile grew as his eyes lit up. She set the bottle down on his desk.

"How many bottles were in the container?" Bill asked, silently wondering how he could grab a hold of another bottle. Before the fall of the 12 colonies, a silver labeled bottle of Ambrosia Spice cost close to 500 cubits for a bottle – now; just to find a bottle of Ambrosia – not even Ambrosia Spice was next to impossible.

"That wasn't all…" She dumped the rest of the bag onto the couch, and Bill couldn't help a low whistle escape as his eyes drank in items he had not seen since pre-holocaust days – a box of fine Caprican cigars; box of Geminon mint tea; canned fish from Picon; two books – one entitled 'The rise of Caprica' the other 'The lost scrolls of Kobol', a large box of Villa's Virgon chocolate and two bars of lemon soap.

"Laura," He glanced up at her, "How full was the container?"

"Packed." She sat down next to him. "Lee has re-sealed the container. Only Lee, Tigh and myself have seen any of the contents. He is having it brought to the Galactica to be inventoried by Tyrol, and then we will begin distributing the necessary supplies."

Bill picked up the bar of soap, turning it for inspection. "I don't know of any person in the Fleet who would have enough stashed resources to fill a container with…" He looked at the small pile between he and Laura. "These items." His eyes came to meet hers. "They were hard to come by, and anything but reasonable on the Colonies. Now?" He shook his head, "Impossible to find, especially the quantity."

Laura nodded in agreement. "You are right. Lee, Tigh and I believe it was a Cylon who managed to fill the container and use it as payment."

Dread began to fill Adama, "Laura…."

She reached across the space, placing a finger on his lips. "Bill, I'm tired. So are you." She removed her hand, "And we both have valid concerns regarding the safety of the Fleet. Obviously, we have a Cylon within the Fleet. We suspected this. And now," She picked up the box of cigars, "It has been confirmed. We'll figure out what to do with the Cylons and the collaborators, who are just as dangerous. In the meantime, we have just acquired some luxuries…" A faint light began to dance behind her eyes. "And I for one plan on taking advantage of them."

Adama felt the weight that had begun to descend on his heart lift as their eyes met. He reached across to her, gently moving a lock of her auburn hair away from her face – tucking it behind her ear. "I concur."

Setting the cigars down on the small pile, she reached out. "I don't know about you, but I need to find a rack before I pass out on our newly acquired luxuries."

Adama stood and then helped her to her feet. They stood nose to nose for a moment, before gravity brought them together – dissolving the remaining distance in a heartbeat. His lips were warm and welcoming, and sorely missed over the past several hours. She felt his hands slide around her back as their kiss broke and they embraced into a loving hug. They stood in the middle of the cabin, her head on his shoulder, his head on hers, arm in arm, locked; not wanting to move. Finally, they pulled apart. Smokey grey and crystal blue eyes dancing with light despite the obvious fatigue ebbing from their bodies. Laura touched the side of his face and they both quietly began to pick up her acquired items.

She loaded up her arms with the chocolates, bars of soap, and the two books and headed toward the bedroom. Laura heard Bill move the tea and fish to his small kichenette and the bottle of Ambrosia was placed with his private stash. She tucked the books above the ledge on his rack along with the chocolate. She moved to the head, taking the soap with her, "Please take your medicine." She stated pulling the door closed behind her.

Several minutes later, she emerged wearing one of Bill's shirts. Her only response to his raised eyebrows was, "I missed you."

He shook his head in disbelief as a smile spread across his face as he laid his glasses next to the new literary editions.

"Oh…Bill." She stated, pulling off her glasses as she eased in beside him. His eyes all ready half closed. "Is it…" A long yawn interrupted her question, "all right if we hold the Presidential Ceremony on Galactica tomorrow?"

Bill's eyes snapped open, "What? Tomorrow?" _The woman was insufferable, but Lords did he love her._


	23. Every Fiber of My Being

Chapter 23 Every Fiber of My BeingChapter 23 Every Fiber of My Being

Bill wiped the sweat from his brow, thanking the Lords of Kobol his breathing treatment was over. It would be four more hours until he would have to suffer through another one, and he planned on enjoying the next 3 hours and 59 minutes until that time came. Sighing, he picked up the phone and ordered to have coffee delivered from the galley. He wasn't tired, and the last thing he wanted to do was wake Laura back up. Her soft snores from the bedroom confirmed she had fallen back to sleep. They had both jumped from the noise of the phone when CIC had given him his reminder of the breathing treatment, he had mumbled about the necessity of continuing the treatments while grabbing his robe and glasses. Laura, on the other hand, had mumbled, "Be right out." He chuckled at the thought – _maybe in a few hours._ _Even then, _he thought, _she would still probably be sleeping. She was exhausted. The whole business of Baltar and his dubious involvement, Jameson's confrontation, unlocking the fleet's newest luxury items and still contending with daily Fleet business. _A soft knock stopped his thoughts. Bracing his ribs while standing, he padded over to the hatch, unlocking it.

"Sir." A young sandy brown haired man, barely twenty, stood at the hatch. "Coffee," He handed the carafe to the Admiral, "And, these…" His other hand brought forth a small stack of papers, "Are from the galley."

Bill looked at the man askance, and as he took the papers from him, he realized they were abridged updates from CIC. "I presume by way of CIC."

The kid cocked a small smile, despite shaking his head no. "No Sir. Just some get well wishes from the galley."

Bill nodded, tucking the reports under his arm, "Thank you…"

"Alec Bridges, Sir."

"Alec. Tell, the galley I appreciate the…thought."

"Aye, Sir." Alec turned and left as Adama closed the hatch. He headed back to the desk, pulling a cup from his shelf, as his eyes began scanning the small stack of reports. The first several were important, albeit, uninteresting. Then he flipped to the next report, and immediately noticed its length, followed by some hand written notes for him along the side. The title of the report quickly clued Adama in – New Inventory from Rising Star. Adama chuckled as he read the comments from Tigh and Lee. _Military asset_ – was scribbled next to the 709 bottles of Silver Labeled Sagittarian Ambrosia Spice; _Cottle's going to be thrilled – _next to the 1240 cartons of Tauron Lights; _Starbuck only gets half _ - next to the 805 boxes of Caprican cigars; _Laura? _– next to the 72 bottles of Alian perfume;_ Thank the Gods –_ next to 2440 viles of antibiotics; and the notes continued….

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"Bill." Laura shook his shoulder. "Bill."

"I'm up." His eyes fluttered open, "What time?" He pushed himself up into a sitting position, pulling his glasses back on.

Laura pulled the robe closer around her as she sat down next to him. "6:30. How are you feeling?"

He shook his head, "I still don't like the breathing treatments." Turning cobalt eyes to green ones. "You?"

"Me either."

He chuckled at her response, "No, how are you feeling?"

"Still really tired. Thought maybe you'd join me back in bed." She rested her hand on his lap.

"How about after my breathing treatment?" He stated squeezing her hand.

"How long were you up earlier?" She asked, noticing the pile of reports skewed on the floor and couch. "And how on Carprica, did you Tigh and Lee get reports to you?"

Bill collapsed into the chair at the desk, "For about an hour, and I have no idea what you are talking about," She met his eyes with a _Cottle said_ look, and he continued. "And I doubt you'll remember what you just stated if you read the summary of our newest luxury items."

Her eyebrows shot up as dawnation struck, "Tyrol has it inventoried?"

Bill nodded, "Yes. And the list is lying on the couch. Along with Lee and Tigh's commentary next to most of the items stored within the container."

She began picking up and skimming the reports, and then setting them aside to view the next one. "Am I off the hook?" He asked, eyebrow half arched. She set another report to the side, glanced up – half scolding; and then went back to reading and mumbling. "Only because I want to see how many boxes of chocolate there are…."

Chuckling, he turned on the machine, suppressing a groan. _Come on, it will be over before I know it_, he thought and then quickly answered. _Yeah, right. _

The treatment went as well as could be expected, Adama only felt as though he were a Cylon punching bag through the last half of the treatments. _Progress._ Laura was busy reading his reports the entire time, until she found the one she had been looking for. She had been focused on the inventory list for the past 10 minutes, beginning to scribble around his XO's and Lee's notes.

"Find something of interest?" He wheezed; lungs and chest tired from the treatment.

Glancing up, paper in hand. "Absolutely. Jameson had a gold mine." She shook the paper, emphasizing the point.

"Yes, I know. I wanted three quarters of the shipment for my private stock."

Setting the inventory on the top of the report pile, she stood and walked toward the desk. "You aren't the only one. We are going to have a real problem with distribution. If the President and Admiral would like most of the supplies, where does that leave the rest of the Fleet?" She asked stopping in front of him.

"Waiting in line for what we don't want…." He replied pulling her onto him.

With as much care as possible, she nestled against him. "Does this bother your side?" She asked running her hand along his jaw.

"Marginally." He replied, his mind on her hand toying with his hair and her body pressed against his left side.

"Perhaps I should…" She felt his arms tighten around her.

"Perhaps…" She felt his hand run up her spine, "you shouldn't." His voice had dropped an octave, and Laura felt her pulse jump.

"Bill…" His hand had wrapped around her waist and was now trailing up her abdomen, under her breast, the base of her neck, the side of her jaw – barely touching, exploring the possibilities.

"Laura," His husky voice portraying his steadying hand, "You are beautiful." He murmured as his thumb brushed across her cheek and lips.

Laura's skin was on fire, and the man sitting under her was wreaking havoc on her senses, driving away thought – leaving only the sanctity of feeling. Mustering all of her resolve, Laura brought her hand up to his face – turning him to face her. Passion mirroring her own stopped the words in her throat. Instead, she leaned into him, passion overriding thought and responsibility – his warm lips beneath hers; tongue probing against her lips until she relented granting access. She felt his hand slid down her back and up her side until she felt a light tug on robe. Before she could protest, his hand was sliding up her thigh. Instinctively she moaned in pleasure as his fingers slipped under her shirt dancing across her stomach – his fingers blazing a path across her skin in their wake.

She turned her head; catching his mouth with her own as her hands began their own dance. Her hands running across his broad chest, wishing to erase the horrid scars these past few years had brought. Until her right hand began to sink from his chest to abdomen to his….the phone rang and for an instant the moment hung there. His hand sliding up her body, fingers barely touching her breast. Her hand sliding down his body, fingers edging toward his waistband. And then the phone rang again, both desperately trying to settle their ragged breathing. His hand slid down to her waist, holding her while he yanked the receiver off the hook.

"Adama." His voice still gruff from moments ago.

"Sir…" The voice on the other end, pausing momentarily unsure. "It has been 4.5 hours and you are scheduled for your breathing treatment."

"Thank you Mr. Agathon, just finished."

"Then sorry to disturb you, Sir." Helo sighed in relief, thanking the Lords he had not called sooner. Everyone on board had all ready been forewarned that Adama and breathing treatments in the same sentence were not a good combination.

"I'd like to speak with Galactica actual."

"One moment." Adama heard the line click and then Tigh's familiar voice came across the line.

"Actual here, go ahead."

"Saul, thanks for the reading material."

"Any thought as to distribution?"

"Working on some ideas, although your and Lee's commentary helped immensely."

His tone was light, "We thought so, Sir."

"Preparations for the Presidential ceremony?"

The line was silent for a long moment, "Sir, if I may ask as to why this is being held on the Galactica instead of Colonial One?"

"Space and …" Adama paused, momentarily gazing into the eyes of the woman sitting on his lap. "The line is secure?"

"Sir? Yes." Tigh was confused, _why did the line need to be secured?_

"I do not believe Ms. Roslin has fully exorcised the previous President's environment." He stated and Laura threw her hand over her mouth as she doubled over in laughter.

Tigh could have sworn he heard a woman's laugher in the background. _I thought she shuttled back to Colonial One last night, _he thought. "I understand Sir." And indeed he did, Baltar had made a brothel out of Colonial One. "Tyrol and the deck gang are clearing the forward hanger deck. It will be ready prior to the ceremony."

"I'll inform the President. Tell Tyrol and gang, thank you."

"Yes, Sir." And the receiver went dead in Tigh's ear. _Wonder what is going on with the 'old man' and Roslin._ Tigh thought for a moment, and then shook his head, _He knew they were close, and he had seen 'the look' pass over Adama's eyes when arriving back from New Caprica. In the time he had known Bill, he had only seen the look twice before – and it was directed to someone who deeply cared for. _He hung up the phone, "Mr. Agathon you have deck." He stated as he made his way to forward hanger deck, the last thing he wanted was a ship full of people and nowhere to shove them all – well he'd make an exception for the reporters. There were plenty of airlocks throughout the ship that needed seal testing; they would be perfect volunteers for. And then his mind wandered back to Roslin and Adama's relationship. He was sure it had not become physical, he had not seen that much of a difference in the 'old man' or the President for that matter. _Yet_,…he thought back to the last couple of days, _she has been spending a lot of time with Adama. And…_he began to play devil's advocate regarding the situation, _they just went through a very close call – and he saved her life. She intern, saved his….and then going through major surgery….hell, Lee has spent more time on Galactica this past week than 4 months of combined time while orbiting New Caprica. _He shook his head, as the word complicated, didn't do their relationship justice. _They have managed to build a friendship despite their history…and if they can take it to the next level…Lords of Kobol help us if they ever have a falling out. _His smile evaporating as he stepped through the hatch at the forward hanger deck; _Frak! _At this rate – it would not be ready by thirteen hundred.

Taking a deep breath, and feeling his check flutter, he tried to calm his voice before heading over to Tyrol and asking what the Frak happened, as he was going to have to re-allocate all of non-essential personnel to the hanger deck to have it ready in time. What a nightmare. Then Tigh thought about whom they were ultimately doing this for, Laura Roslin. Sighing, anger all ready out of his demeanor, he turned to Tyrol. "Chief, at present rate, we are not going to be ready by thirteen hundred hours."

The Chief shook his head, circles lining his eyes. "I know Colonel. We are doing everything we can. We had a viper get stuck in the launch tube. It really set us back this morning."

Tigh nodded, vaguely wondering why he had doubted the Chief's ability. He, above everyone else, should have known that something must have come up for the Chief to be this far behind. "I am going to re-allocate _all_ non-essential personnel to assist you."

Tyrol breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Sir."

Tigh grasped Tyrol's shoulder, "Just have this hanger deck ready."

Tyrol's face broke into a grin, "It will be, Sir. It will be." With that, the Chief stood up on the box and yelled for everyone of the deck gang to listen up for a moment.

Tigh was halfway through the hatch when he heard Galen's voice carrying across the deck, obviously being a union leader taught him one or two things. "Listen up….we are **not** going to disappoint the President. She is being…." _Barring a Cylon strike force, he'll have it done, _Tigh thought heading to his quarters for a few hours of much needed rack time.

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Adama no sooner hung up the receiver, hand sliding up Laura's waist and a loud knock sounded from the hatch. Laura and Bill looked at each other, exasperation displayed on each of their faces. _So much for privacy, _they both thought.

Sighing, she stood. "I'll get it." She stated, heading for the hatch as she adjusted her robe.

"Laura," He uttered her name, momentarily stopping her movement as she turned around.

"What?" She asked, hands resting on her hips.

The knock pounded from the hatch again, followed by a definitive, scratchy voice that belonged to none other than Jack Cottle. Upon hearing his voice, Adama shook his head, "Never mind." He stated, thinking it was a good thing Cottle was on the other side of the door. _If that was Tory…or_…he halted that line of thought instantly. _No need getting worked up over what ifs._

Laura cycled the door open, reveling a blurry-eyed doctor.

"Took you long enough." He mumbled closing the hatch behind him. "Busy doing something else?" Cottle asked in jest, but from the deafening silence that greeted him and slight flush of their cheeks, Cottle realized he had inadvertently guessed the mark. 

"Actually," Adama piped up, "I just finished talking to CIC." He stated, hoping to divert Cottle's attention.

"Damn fool." He stated.

_So much for diverting his wrath, _Adama thought as Cottle's chest expanded – preparing Adama's onslaught.

"CIC? You are under medical restrictions Admiral." Jack laid his hands down on the desk, bringing his leathered face level with Adama. "You of all people know what that means. I have cut corners with you, Admiral, because we are talking about the survival of our species – but do **not **think for one second that you are healthy. I did not release your son for over a month after he was shot in the chest. Nor did I release Starbuck when her knee was not ready to fly a Viper. However, I released you, when you took not one, but two in the chest and had two surgeries to stymie the wounds days after your injury. But this does not mean that you are invincible, because your body needs time to heal." He snapped his head around, his eyes piercing Laura's. And the emotion emanating from them caused the beginnings of lump to form in her throat and her stomach become queasy.

"I authorized his early release from sickbay, because of your blossoming relationship and, perception aside, I have witnessed through years in the medical profession that love truly does assist in the healing process. But, his," Cottle's face was getting red, as he pointed back to Bill. "Heart cannot take the excursion of intercourse. His blood pressure will increase, causing his heart rate to accelerate and the need for more oxygen, which is difficult for our Admiral to do accomplish at the moment. Ultimately, this will cause his breathing to quicken and his lung cannot handle the additional stress, and it will rupture." He sucked in a deep breath, and at her ghostly face paused for another heartbeat. "Here," He grasped under her arm, guiding her to the other chair in front of the Admiral's desk. "Sit down. I don't need you passing out too." He mumbled as she practically fell into the chair.

Looking at the two of them, he just shook his head and pulled up a small stool – sitting at the edge of the desk; Roslin on the right and Adama on the left. _They look like two teenagers who have just been caught with more than their hand in the cookie jar; _he thought all ready wishing for a cigarette this morning.

"Jack," Adama's voice had taken on the Admiral tone. "We are adults." Bill's eyes bored into Jack's; daring the Doctor to pick up the gauntlet he had thrown down.

"Yes," Cottle responded, willingly picking it up for the sake of the Fleet, "You are. And if you are going to be reckless, that is entirely your prerogative. But remember, your actions or inactions have substantial consequences."

The three of them sat there for an eternity not speaking. Finally Laura brought the stalemate to an end. "Jack," She stated, reaching across the desk entwining her and Bill's fingers. "We are human. And," She smiled, remembering the feeling of Bill's hand running over her body. "We react just like everyone else."

All three of them chuckled at her comment. "I know." He stated, and he pushed forward hating himself for having to say the truth. "But, you do not have that luxury Laura. Nor do you Bill."

They stared at him, knowing how true his words were, and wishing upon anything and everything they weren't.

"This is torturous." Bill mumbled as he stood and headed for the kitchenette. "Water?"

Both stated yes.

"I'm sure it is." Cottle stated, wondering why the hell he was having this conversation – with these two people.

Adama poured three glasses before returning to his seat, sipping slowly on the contents. "How long until my release?" He asked, spinning the glass in his hand.

Cottle's eyebrows shot up, "That depends on you, Admiral." He turned to Roslin, "And you, Madame President."

"Looks like you are not going to have any contact with CIC or any other member of your staff who will cause undue stress." Laura stated.

"That is a start." Cottle stated, "But you must complete a breathing treatment every four hours; and for the next week, come to sickbay daily to receive your daily dosage of antibiotics."

Bill and Laura reached across the desk, fingers interlocking. "Only a few weeks." Her smile quivered as her fingers gently squeezed his.

Bill nodded, wishing his body were stronger than it was, as he despised feeling helpless. But in truth, he knew Cottle was speaking truthfully. "Jack, I do have one favor." Bill stated, swallowing what remained of his pride – knowing full well what it would mean to Laura. Cottle focused his attention on Adama, as he continued. "I would like to attend Laura's ceremony this afternoon."

Cottle fought back the tears at the simple heartfelt request. "Ceremony and back."

"Done…" Bill reached up with his other hand to run it down Laura's jaw. "And done."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lee rolled his shoulder has he stepped off the raptor, trying in vain yet again to get the dress uniform to fit properly. Frowning, he yanked the front of his uniform down again; his movement had caused it to hike up in the front. _Frakking uniform, _he swore, ignoring the underlying reason for the less than perfect fit.

He plastered a smile on his face as his wife stepped off the raptor, gently taking his arm in her hands. Their argument, correction, their all out war, had been tabled until after the Presidential ceremony. They began walking the familiar halls of Galactica towards the forward hanger deck, Lee stated," I promised Starbuck we would stop by prior to the ceremony."

Lee noticed a sharp intake of breath coming from his wife, and a very thin response. "You promised?"

Lee continued guiding them towards sickbay, "Yes." He replied firmly. He felt himself holding his tongue, as this was not the time nor place to begin rehashing the less than cordial conversation that had transpired earlier in their quarters.

"Lee..."

Lee interrupted, his voice quiet yet firm. "Dee, not now."

He felt her hand clamp onto his arm, cutting off his circulation. "We are _going_ to discuss this later." She calmly replied.

"I'm sure." He gritted out between teeth as he opened the hatch to sickbay.

Cottle came around the corner, briefly smiling at the Commander and his wife, "For once, you have good timing." Cottle grasped Lee and Dualla by the arms, steering them toward Kara's bed. "She just woke up two hours ago."

"How's she doing?" Lee asked, genuinely concerned.

Cottle stopped for a moment, meeting Lee's tired eyes. _The kid has been through a lot with his family, _he thought and then the moment passed, as he only had _so_ much sympathy – and the Admiral and President had the market share of it, mentally chuckling at the thought of the last time he had seen those two earlier today, he plunged into the guts of information regarding Starbuck. "Physically, she'll have some rehab to do for her right arm and left leg. Emotionally…" He shook his head, "She lost her husband less than a week and a half ago, met a child grown by the Cylons who used her ovaries – essentially making the child hers, almost lost the man whom she considers her father, and is trying to fly a Viper for the first time in over a year – where if she messes up, it will cost her, her life. You do the math flyboy." Cottle maneuvered past them, wishing he didn't always have to spell out the obvious.

Lee stepped around the curtain, his lips instinctively curling into a smile. "Hey."

Groggily she looked to where she had heard Lee's voice was coming from, "Back to ya." She mumbled.

"Hello, Starbuck." Dualla stated, noticing how Starbuck's usual vibrant color had faded into a ghostly white.

"Dee." Thrace forced a smile toward her, "How'vya been?"

"Doing well, thank you." Dualla gently laid a hand on Thrace's left arm. "Looks like the Viper tossed you around a bit."

"Wouldn't want it any other way." She answered, and then turned to Lee. "Cottle said you stopped by after the S&R. Sorry I wasn't much company, but thanks."

Brown and blue eyes met for a moment, relief washing through blue ones – gratitude through brown ones. "Yeah, your never much company." He stated aloud, and at her crack of a smile Lee knew it was time to leave. He would stop by later, without Dualla.

"Better get a move on before your fashionably late, like usual Apollo." Thrace had watched the play of emotions behind Lee's eyes; and knew something was wrong – and he needed to leave. But, just as certain as she knew that, she knew he'd be back.

Lee offered his arm to his wife, "Yes, late maybe – but at least I'm attending."

"Then at least make yourself useful and tell your dad I said hi and congratulations to the President." Lee's face contorted into a question, and Thrace added. "Cottle mentioned he had given the Admiral permission to attend the Presidential ceremony."

"Ohh." Lee mumbled, wondering why his father had failed to mention the fact that he would be at the ceremony.

"We'll tell him." Dualla replied.

"Thanks for stopping." Kara stated.

"Anytime." Lee replied, escorting Dualla to the forward hanger deck.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I still can't believe I'm here." Gauis stated through clenched teeth.

"Where else would you like to be?" Six responded, honey dripping off her words as she continued. "In your 'home', wallowing in self pity?" She ran her hand up his arm, "No, I think you'll find today's festivities far more…" She leaned in next to him, breath hot against his face, "Interesting."

Ever so slightly, Gauis turned to his blonde companion. "Why? What have you planned?"

Six tipped her head back in laughter, "Me? Planned? That's rich, Gauis. Even for you."

Gauis was about to seek clarification when they stepped into the main forward hanger deck, and hundreds of eyes descended upon him. He was after all, the former president. As he walked toward where the main ceremonies would be taking place in several minutes, he wondered what his companion had been referring to. And as if reading his mind, she piped up. "Oh, don't look so worried Gauis." She stepped around him as he approached Roslin, momentarily stepping in between them. "This was planned months ago, just in case she came back to power as the president."

Six stepped out between them, as Roslin turned his direction – they were now face to face – Gauis' mind churning at the information he had just received. "Dr. Roslin." He acknowledged with a tilt of his head.

"Dr. Baltar." She responded mimicking his gesture.

Gauis took a moment, pretending to scan the crowd, while he collected his thoughts. "Full house." He stated, adjusting his glasses as he turned his attention back to Roslin.

"So it appears." She replied, obviously dreading their small talk as much as he. "Thank you for the information you provided regarding Jameson."

"Ahhh….How noble of her to offer her thanks to you." Six seethed as she came within inches of Roslin's face.

"Yes…just trying to be of help." Baltar replied. "Did he bring forth any additional clues?" He asked, knowing full well that Jameson had died prior to any type of information could be parted.

"Unfortunately, no. He was killed while being apprehended." Her statement strikingly familiar to the one issued yesterday to the press.

"Military inefficiency can be a costly mistake." Baltar mumbled.

Roslin's eyes narrowed at his remark, "It can be. Thankfully our military epitomizes efficiency."

"What military is she referring to Gauis?" Six's eyebrows knitted as if confused. "Ours?"

"Why, thank you, Madame President. We try our best." Lee remarked as he and Dualla came to a halt beside Roslin and Baltar.

Baltar merely feigned indifference to his comment, "Why yes…best is such a subjective word, but…" He cocked a wry smile, "you are quite right in your description Commander. Quite right." _Try…_he thought, _and quite often, fail._

Lee sucked in a deep breath, knowing this was not the time or place to fling senseless comments back and forth. "Sorry we were late, Madame President. If you are ready to start…?"

Roslin momentarily focused her attention on the Commander. "Momentarily…" She pleasantly stated, before calmly turning back to Gauis – eyes turning into steel, her voice following suit. "Doctor, I believe our differences in opinion vary greatly. This instance only further enunciating those disparities – the most important being the Fleet's military." Roslin did not finish her statement to Baltar, she didn't have to – the assembled members of the Fleet did it for her as burst into cheers and applause.

"This is unexpected." Six stated, her senses absorbing the Fleet's reaction upon seeing the Fleet's Admiral, but her eyes remained focused on Roslin. "And problematic."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The entire hanger deck seemed to burst with energy all at once, stopping her statement to Baltar. Laura turned around, and felt her heart instantly lighten at the sight of him. Admiral William Adama had entered the hanger deck, his first public appearance since leaving New Caprica and his brush with death.

Despite the commotion, a loud "Attention on deck." Reverberated across the expanse. Laura along with the other civilians watched in amazement as all of the military personnel snapped to attention, creating a loud 'stomp', extinguishing all sound on the deck. Laura watched as Bill slowly, made his way to where she was standing. His eyes locked on hers. _Gods, _she thought as he neared her, allowing her the first good look at his eyes. _He's in pain and moving forward on sheer willpower. _At the heart wrenching thought, she wanted to run to him, help him…anything except stand and watch him walk toward her. Every step he took, she forced herself not to wince, knowing how much it was costing him to show the Fleet that he supported _'this'_ President.

Laura breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped up next to her, thankful he was no longer walking and that he had not passed out from the excursion. For a moment, she looked at the light sheen of sweat on his skin that was beading at his brow and noticed his haggard breathing – and then he spoke, drawing her out. His voice was raspy but determined. "Thank you for waiting."

Laura smiled and genuinely replied, "Thank you for attending."

He smiled in response, and then turned to the Commander – who like everyone else, was still standing at attention. "Commander," He took a breath, "If you will direct…everyone to stand at ease."

"Aye, Sir." He quietly replied, before bellowing, "At ease."

Adama turned back to Roslin and also the Priest. "The floor is yours." And he took up his position to the right of Laura, Commander Adama flanking him.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Bill fought off the wave of nausea; instead focusing on the beautiful woman dressed in her navy '_I'm tired of this_' suit. Mere moments ago, she had raised her hand to once again take the office of the President of the Twelve Colonies.

"I, Laura Roslin, do now avow and affirm…" He noticed how her usually clear, distinct voice quivered ever so slightly as she continued to repeat after the priest. "….of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol. That I will protect and defend the sovereignty of the Colonies..."

"With every fiber of my being." The Priest recited.

Sweat dripped off his brow, as she finished her oath of office. _Not a moment too soon, _he thought. Steeling himself against the pain this would cause, he took a shallow breath and then pulled himself into full attention. All military personnel followed suit.

The President turned to the Admiral, momentarily nodding before extending her hand to him. He extended his hand, stating. "Madame President."

Their handshake, a seemingly simple gesture, with a powerful underlying meaning. _Civilian and Military – united._ Adama turned to Lee, "May I present our President, Laura Roslin. Dismissed."

Lee repeated the statement, and the room erupted in applause, whistles, and cheers. And then Bill heard it. Years of military training enabled the distinction between noise and something else. The something else was heading toward _Laura_. He sprang into action, feeling his side scream in protest. The look on Laura's face momentarily frozen in place, shock mixed with fear emanating from her eyes as she grasped the horror of the situation. His body impacting against hers, temporarily weightless, until the deck rushed up to meet them.


	24. Straight through the heart

Chapter 24 – Straight Through the Heart

**Chapter 24 – Straight Through the Heart**

**Day 7 after leaving New Caprica**

Kara closed her eyes, ignoring the constant thrumming noise that comprised sickbay. Her thoughts focusing on her _conversation_ with Lee. Berating herself, she thought. _What the frak was I thinking yesterday? _Kara sighed, her heart knowing full well what happened yesterday and responded in kind. _You weren't. And neither was he. _She choked back the gut wrenching feeling of loss, pressing her eyelids together. Hoping the physical realm would halt the emotional onslaught. It didn't – tears streamed down her cheeks in defiance.

"Code Blue!" Helo's voice bellowed throughout sickbay, "Code Blue Forward Hanger Deck. Condition One." Alarms sounding throughout Galactica. Tears forgotten, Kara instantly sat up – brown eyes opened wide in amazement as the medical staff responded in clockwork efficiency. Cottle literally sprinting out of his office, snatching what appeared to be a forgotten stethoscope and small black leather satchel off of the shelf in front of her. Kara recognized the satchel – _The same satchel he was carrying the other day when he was called for the Admiral. _

"Grab two shots of morph." His raspy voice, loud and coming from close to the exit now.

"Two?"

"The Admiral has probably passed out from excursion." Cottle replied, his voice almost no existent.

She heard some glass clink together, _one of the techs grabbing morph_; Kara surmised followed by a moment of eerily silence.

With each passing moment, Kara felt her heart plummeting; _Cottle had mentioned Adama by name_. _Please Lords…_ She felt the familiar pull of the FTL drive, _Oh…_ tears began welling up in her eyes as Galactica made the faster than light jump…her heart knowing something terrible must have happened to cause the Fleet to make an emergency jump.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tigh pinched the bridge of his nose. He had managed to catch four hours of rack time, but Lords was he still tired. Picking up another set of reports, _Can't wait until the 'Old Man' is back, so he can stack all of these reports somewhere other than CIC._

Tigh glanced at the title, 'Fuel Consumption.' _This one will be thrilling, well…_he began scanning the report…_at least I didn't draw ceremony detail_. He thought as Roslin's voice echoed across the small radio on CIC – 'avow and affirm…' Even several minutes after his arrival, Tigh was still mildly surprised that the Admiral had ventured to the ceremony. _Part of the political mending process, thank the Gods I don't have to contend with that mess._

'With every fiber of my being…' Roslin continued repeating after the Priest. Tigh paying little attention to the radio, he was flipping to the next _invigorating_ report trying to focus on decreasing the mountainous paperwork, when he heard the unmistakable sound of weapons fire, followed by screams and then the radio went dead.

"Code Blue, forward hanger deck, Mr. Agathon. Set Condition one." Tigh turned to Gaeta, "Mr. Gaeta, send two Marine teams, and …" He swallowed hard, hoping the Admiral or the President had not been shot or worse – killed. "Make sure Cottle is on board."

Gaeta was in the middle of dispatching the strike force teams when Tigh finished. As soon as Gaeta clicked the line off, he turned to Tigh, "Sir, Cottle is on board – and responding."

Nodding, Tigh turned back to control center – mind on anything but the pile of reports.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Adama felt his arm connect with her body as they flew through the air. His side screaming as his heart pounded in his ears drowning out the surrounding chaos. His body slamming into the floor, air rushing from his lungs. Adama went to move, to ensure Laura was all right, but found his strength leaving him. Side on fire, barely able to breath. But, he gritted his teeth, chewing on his cheek to focus through the pain. He drug himself forward, "Laura?" He breathed out, the sound lost in the screams. Her russet hair spread across the deck, her body still unmoving.

Panic flooded Adama, pushing down – he pulled himself closer; until he was close enough to place his hand on her shoulder, he flipped her over. Almost passing out from the effort, he scanned her body – no blood. "Laura?" Her eyes fluttered open…."Bill?" She mumbled, barely coherent.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lee heard the shot and sprang into action – heading toward where the shot was fired, yanking his sidearm from its holster. In his peripheral vision, he had seen his father dive toward the President mere moments before he heard any noise, pulling her to the deck. Several other military personnel were moving toward the sound of weapons fire. Another shot rang through the air. Civilians panicking – a blond haired man locked eyes with Lee while he shot again. Lee didn't think, merely diving out of the way – hearing the bullet fly by. Then another shot, discharged from a separate location – Lee turned his head to see Tipton fire off another round. Blond hair swaying as the man fell to the ground.

"Lock the room down." Lee yelled to Tipton, and rest of the marine guard present. He made his way to the shooter, gun drawn – just in case. The man lay in a growing pool of blood, eyes rolled back in his head. Lee kicked the gun from his hands.

"We need a doctor." A person yelled. 

Lee turned back around, wondering who and where the voice had come from. "We need a Doctor!" Ayeron, the priest yelled, and Lee felt his stomach lurch. People were swarming the scene; he pushed himself through the throng and felt his knees give way.

"No!" He felt the words leave his lips.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Six heard the first shot, and a smile graced her lips. She watched the scene unfold as if she were a conductor orchestrating a grand piece of music. For as old as he was, Adama was quite fast on the uptake. He pounced into action, flinging his body toward Laura Roslin. They collided, his momentum forcing them to the floor – Six praying the shot had pierced one of the two. The shot was intended for Roslin, but if it took out Adama – that would be fine too. However, it would not be fine if neither were to die. She was concerned, and rightly so – the look in Roslin's eyes as Adama had approached spoke more than of friendship.

The second shot rang through the air, pandemonium reigning on the deck. Six watched as Dualla's body convulsed, the bullet striking her chest. Blood spilling forth as her eyes bulged. "Lee…" She mouthed, falling to the floor.

Six watched as the man whom this woman loved ran in the opposite direction, playing hero as she lay on the verge of death. _Fool_, she thought. Six's eyes tracked back to Adama and Roslin, a puddle of blood swelling on the Admiral's side. _Dare I hope!_ He was dragging himself closer to the newly appointed leader, pulling her over.

The shooter managed to discharge a third shot. Six almost felt gleeful, waiting to see who would be impacted. She watched as Gauis moved forward. _What is he doing?_ She thought as he stepped into the line of fire between the shooter and the target. To her horror, she witnessed the impact of the third bullet as the man fell, his eyes large – dilated with pain. Glasses sliding off his nose, unruly hair falling to the side. "Gauis!" She dropped to her knees, "WE NEED A DOCTOR!" She felt herself scream. She tried to stop the bleeding, eyes frantically searching for medical personnel. Upon seeing Cottle arrive, she yelled for assistance…he was oblivious. Eyes focused on Adama as he dispatched his personnel to assist the other wounded. _You will pay if Gauis dies, _Six thought.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Make a hole." A med tech yelled.

Cottle running through throngs of onlookers, heart breaking as he stopped dead in his tracks taking the scene in. The shooter was able to get three shots off. Three shots. Three bodies. Pools of blood, ashen faces. No more time was wasted as Cottle directed one med tech to Dualla, but he knew from the entry wound she was all ready gone. The round had pierced her heart.

He directed a second med tech to the former president, wishing the shooter had been as precise in this shot as Dualla's. Baltar would live; it was just a flesh wound. But from the horrible sounds he was making, one would be led to believe quite differently.

Cottle knelt beside the Admiral, nodding to the current President to move aside. Blood dripping off her hands, mixing with the tears from her eyes.

"He…." Her voice breaking, "pushed me aside when …."

Cottle inspected the Admiral, large blood spot on his right shoulder where the bullet had grazed. A concern to be sure, but the secondary pool of blood building along Adama's side worried Cottle greatly. He ripped open the Admiral's uniform…

"Essential personnel only." Tipton and several marine guards were pushing the crowd away from the bloody scene.

…cutting through his undershirts. He heard Laura gasp as he exposed his side; the stitches were torn apart…blood leeching out... Cottle felt for a pulse, "Help get him on a cart." He yelled, _his blood pressure is plummeting._ "Two, one…" Adama had been moved, Cottle and his team whisking the Admiral to sickbay – a marine guard in tow.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Rysha, the med tech, shook her head. Major Anastasia Dualla – Adama was dead. "I am sorry Sir. She died almost instantly, the bullet went through her heart."

Lee felt the tears pouring down his cheeks, as a part of him seemed to die inside. He couldn't move. Couldn't think. She was dead. Vaguely he heard Cottle's voice…and his mind screamed at him through the fog. _Dad! _Blinking through the tears, he lifted his head in time to see Cottle's back as they scrambled out of the hanger deck – his father on a gurney. A marine strike force and the President's entourage in tow.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Kara forced the med tech to turn on the wireless. It was dead. _Galactica must be blocking all transmissions. Never a good sign, _she thought. Any further contemplation of what could be going on down in the forward hanger deck was unneeded; an out of breath med tech burst into sickbay. 

"Three shots – Two incoming; one DOA. One minute for Adama." The room went into overdrive.

"Wait…!" Kara yelled, desperately trying to gather more information. A frantic looking med tech stopped, "The Admiral?"

"Yes." The med tech replied, all ready fifteen feet from Thrace's bed.

Kara's heart rate increased as she sat there…waiting. Her eyes glued to the exterior hatch of sickbay. Then she heard Cottle's distinct voice. "BP at 55. He's hemorrhaging on the inside." Their voices getting clearer, until she saw the outlines of them enter the area. "I need to get in there, NOW."

"Room three is…."

"No time…" Cottle was bending over the Admiral. Kara flung her legs over the bed, and through sheer willpower maneuvered to the edge of her room.

"BP at 50." A woman's voice stated.

"Give him two CC's of morph." Cottle stated.

"Sir…that will kill him." A tech responded.

Kara could see Cottle shake his head, "No, he's bleeding out to fast. Do it." She watched as the tech injected the syringe. She looked up to see Roslin place a bloody hand over her mouth. Unmistakable tears welling in her eyes, and then Roslin flinched. Kara glanced back to the gurney, her jaw locking in an effort to keep her lunch. Cottle was cutting him open.

"Come on." Cottle mumbled, feeling as though time were against him. He clipped the skin back, blood pouring on the table. _Too much too fast._ The stitches in his muscles along his rib cage mirrored the ones on his side. Sighing, he plunged further in as the technicians spouted his continually lowering BP.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Laura brought her hand to her face; trying to cover her shock at Cottle's announcement _he's bleed out to fast._ Her eyes barely noticing the blood on her hands, her focus solely on the scene in front of her. Flinching, she watched Cottle lance open the remaining stitches on Bill's side and muscles. Then he spread his ribs, exposing his lung…Laura thought she'd be sick, but oddly enough she wasn't. She was too absorbed in every motion Cottle made; every word any of the med tech's stated. She didn't want to miss a thing.

Minutes passed by, and a med tech whooped – there was no other word for it – she announced Bill's BP had leveled off. It was still only 55; but it had rebounded some and was stabilizing. She watched Cottle's shoulders marginally relax. _Bill's doing better._ Cottle nodded, "Move him to room 3." He stated, eyes locking onto hers. "He's stabile enough, he'll pull through – I have to finish cauterizing some torn blood vessels, before I stitch him back up. It'll be an hour or so." With that he left, entering room 3.

Relief swarmed through Laura. _He'll be all right._ She felt a smile begin to creep across her face, moving her hands she noticed they felt tight. She looked down at them, instantly remembering upon seeing Bill's blood. Swallowing the lump down again, she made her way to the sink to wash her hands.

"Make a hole." A med tech yelled as second gurney came into sickbay carrying Dr. Gauis Baltar. "Where's Cottle?" The med tech stated.

Another one answered, "With the Admiral."

The statement was simple and profound. They were on the Galactica, and here Adama came first. And that was fine with the President. She wouldn't want her Admiral treated any other way.

_Tbc…_

_A/N: Hope you enjoyed; this is one of my favorite passages. More to come soon ;)_


	25. Question & Answer

Chapter 25 ~ Question & Answer Day 7/night 8 after leaving New Caprica

"I have a statement regarding the incident on the Forward Hanger Deck of the Galactica. The man responsible for the shooting, Darrin Skual, was killed. Presently, we have found no accomplices. Mr. Skual was able to discharge three rounds before he was taken down. One instantly killed Major Anastasia Dualla. The other two victims are Admiral William Adama and former President Gauis Baltar. Doctor Baltar is in surgery to repair a bullet lodged in his left abdominal muscle. Admiral Adama is in intensive care, recovering from surgery to repair his right lung. Questions."

The room pounced into action, every one of the reporters raising their hand. "Piya."

"Can you describe what happened to you after Commander Adama presented you as the President?"

Roslin felt her fingers wrap tighter around the podium. It had been three hours since she had felt Bill's arm pull her to the deck in a rush. Three hours since she had heard his weak voice dragging her back from the abyss. Three hours since she found his body draped across hers, barely coherent.

"_Laura…" She felt his hand run through her hair._

_Focusing her eyes on his, the cacophony around them melted away. The moment hung in time. Blue – grey eyes meeting as if for the first time – love emanating between them._

_And then the moment was gone, his eyes becoming unfocused – Laura noticing the blood soaking through his uniform. Instantly she placed pressure on his side. "Bill, stay with me."_

_His eyes fluttered close as he responded, "Always…love."_

"I…" She steadied her breath, "remember the Admiral coming toward me. His left arm pulling me down as the first shot sounded. My head hit the deck, and I blacked out. I awoke to see…the Admiral passing out from blood loss. I tried to stop the bleeding, Doctor Cottle arrived on the Hanger Deck, and then I had the opportunity to take in my surroundings. Next question. Mark."

"Any truth that the former President, Doctor Baltar took a bullet for you?"

Roslin kept her face neutral, "I have not had the opportunity to speak with him. Stuart."

"Was Admiral Adama's appearance at the ceremony, planned?"

Roslin smiled internally, _of course it was planned. _"Planned? I'm sorry Stuart. Could you elaborate on your question?"

"Yes. Did you consult with the Admiral regarding his attendance at the ceremony and how it would assist with public approval? And was his attendance, despite his medical condition, why the ceremony was held on Galactica?"

"As Tory announced yesterday, Galactica was chosen to hold the Presidential ceremony strictly based on size. In regards to the Admiral's attendance, of course, I extended an invitation. He stated he would attempt to attend, but would not commit until after he consulted with Doctor Cottle. Piya."

"Your relationship with the Admiral has strengthened since returning from New Caprica, has it moved beyond the professional realm?"

Roslin chuckled, making no effort to hide the reaction. "Perhaps we have been living different weeks, Piya. Mine as well as the Admiral's has been slightly stressful, - we have had multiple Cylon encounters, shortage of every necessary supply, a murderer killing our children, attempting to re-establish a floating Fleet with a working government among the stars and if that isn't enough; we both have almost been killed – as of today, twice." Her voice became hard, obviously daring anyone else to bring up the topic or misquote her as she continued. "So, yes – our relationship has changed. It has strengthened into a welcome and, after this week, an understandable friendship – which," Her smile easily flowed back as she continued, "I greatly prefer versus the alternative – life back on New Caprica. Stan."

"How long will Commander Adama remain in charge of the military?"

"Doctor Cottle has been unavailable since the incident to comment on the Admiral's recovery period."

Stan continued, "Will the Admiral being running things behind the scenes despite not being released by Doctor Cottle?"

Roslin thanked her years in politics to keep her face impassive. "If available, the Admiral's expertise will be consulted. Lyla."

"The road to Earth. How long? And what is the course heading?"

"Having Cylon collaborators within the Fleet immeasurably restricts the information as to our course headings. I will merely answer – classified, and classified. George."

"How is your Administration going to deal with those persons who collaborated with the Cylons?"

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Roslin walked through the hatch at sickbay, utterly drained. She wanted nothing more than to see Bill, inquire from the medical staff how he was doing, take something for her splitting headache, and wake up when the world had righted itself. As nice as all of that sounded, the President was here on business. In brief seconds, she was outside Cottle's office, knocking. "Jack."

"Come in, Madame President." His voice sounded tired.

Pulling the door closed behind her, she released a sigh that had been pent up for the past 5 hours. Then she dove into very unpleasant business that **had **to be dealt with, immediately. "Jack I need to speak with Bill." She said, her tired voice – hard, commanding.

Cottle pushed his report to the side, shaking his head. "No."

Sitting down opposite of him, she met his eyes. "This is not a request."

And then she saw a look and understood why everyone steered cleared of Cottle. His eyes blazed, voice firm. "No. And he will not have _any_ visitors, yourself included."

Taking a deep breath, her eyes squinting. "Jack…this is not personal."

He raised his eyebrow, "Madame President, the Admiral is not awake. Nor will he be awake for several days."

"What?" She asked, confused. "Several days?"

"Yes. After that heroic stunt he pulled, I was barely able to keep his lung inflated. I am placing him into a sleep induced coma to assist with his healing process."

"You can't!" She blurted out.

"I'll damn well do what I need to in regards to my patients livelihood,_ especially_ concerning the Admiral." He stated with conviction.

She nodded, "I know." Tears coming to her eyes, "But, I need you to wake him up."

This caught Cottle by surprise. "Why?"

"Jack," She reached under her glasses wiping the tears away. "I wouldn't ask…but it's important."

Cottle leaned forward, "You do realize that waking him early could cause a hemorrhage."

Biting her lip, her voice breaking in response. "I know."

"And that…"

She held up her hand, shaking her head. "Don't….Jack…please don't." Tears streaming down her cheeks. "I am here as the President." Her eyes imploring Jack, "And I need to speak with the Fleet Admiral."

He nodded, "All right. On three conditions." He waited until her breathing steadied before continuing. "One – he is in a clean-room." She nodded in acceptance. "Two – after you speak with him, I have your consent to place him in an induced coma for one week that will be undisturbed."

"What?! A week!"

"He needs the time for his body to heal. I will treat him in sickbay. He will be fine, and heal much faster if he is not pushing his body too fast."

Roslin was shaking her head, "No…Jack…a week…we…the Fleet…I can't. Not for a week."

"Fine. Four days." She began shaking her head again, and he spoke before she had the opportunity. "Laura, this is non-negotiable." At the use of her first name, she realized Cottle was not going to budge past the four days. He continued on. "His immune system is compromised – his muscles along his rib cage are becoming shredded from continually being ripped and sewn back together; and if he loses any more blood, I will not be able to keep him alive. He must rest. This will ensure that for three days his body can focus on healing, nothing more."

"Okay. What is number three?" She asked, wishing to be stepping through Bill's quarters – seeing him stretched out on the couch, pulling her to him.

"I go in with you. I am bound by doctor-patient confidentiality, and have no use for the information you will be discussing. I, or a member of my staff, must be there to monitor his vitals."

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

"Bill." Laura squeezed his hand, "Bill. I need to talk to you." She sat silently for a moment, glancing at Cottle. He shook his head indicating that he couldn't give him another stimulant. "Bill." She squeezed his hand again, and then to her heart's joy he lightly returned the gesture.

"Hey…" Her voice involuntarily softened.

His eyes fluttering open, blue eyes groggily focusing on his surroundings. "…ey."

"Admiral, I need you to listen to my voice. This is Doctor Cottle. You are in sickbay, under quarantine. Restrict your movements, and above all else – do not breath deeply. You ruptured your side while playing heroics."

Adama squeezed Laura's hand, "Rather…ruptured…differently."

A full moment passed before laughter erupted from both of them. _Was it only this morning_, Laura briefly thought.

"Me too." Laura replied through welcome tears of laughter.

"I am sure, Admiral." Cottle's voice was still light, "But the results are equivalent."

A sly grin spread across his pale olive skin, "One…far more…pleasurable than…other."

Cottle cleared his throat, "Yes…well, we don't always get what we want. The President requested a brief meeting with you. After the meeting, you will be placed into a sleep induced coma for several days allowing your body time to heal."

"Any….choice?" He breathed out looking from Roslin to Cottle.

Cottle answered with a voice of steel. "No."

He moved his eyes and head ever so slightly, "What's….wrong?" He asked.

Laura glanced up at Cottle, before giving Bill her full attention. "Bill, I needed to talk to you about Astral Body M8."

He nodded. "Meant…talk…you." He closed his eyes taking a breath, Cottle inching closer to the bed.

"Bill, are you all right?" Laura asked, wishing she didn't need the information. Wishing she could be here talking to him with no concerns, no Fleet, and no Cylons.

He took a shaky breath. "Hurts….How…" Bill opened his eyes, "many jumps…away."

"Gaeta can have us there in one jump."

"Not until…collaborators…sectioned…off."

She brought her face closer, "I don't understand what they have to do with the Astral Body."

"Security…breach…" Bill could feel waves of pain trying to take him into the sanctuary of oblivion. Gritting his teeth, he took a mildly deeper breath – irritating his side. "Have to ensure the Cylons ….have not prepared a trap." He took another breath, "Sensors can't penetrate."

"The other night at dinner with Lee, Kara and Dualla – you told Lee not to worry about it. What's your plan?" She asked, silently wishing she would have thought to ask the other night.

"Not ready…" He breathed out.

"The plan isn't ready…"

He shook his head, "No...Fleet."

"What's the plan?"

His breathing was getting more ragged, eyes beginning to lose focus. "Laura…I…" Turning to Cottle, "Need…few more …min.."

"Admiral your system can't handle another stimulant." Cottle responded.

Adama's eyes were half closed, the words were a faint whisper. "Fl…t not…s..ive."

"Bill?" She squeezed his hand, nothing. Roslin looking at Cottle, "Jack…." She shook her head, "I refuse to let us jump into the Astral Body without being prepared. He is a brilliant strategist. And whatever his concerns regarding the collaborators are valid. We need to know what he knows."

"The stimulant…."

She shook her head not wanting to hear, "Just give it to him."

He pulled out a syringe, injecting the fluid into his IV. Cottle stayed close to the bed, hoping Adama's body could withstand the drug coursing through his veins.

"Hey…" Laura said as Bill's eyes fluttered back open.

"Déjà vu…" He smiled, "listen…need you to know…" Penetrating blue eyes captivating her, "Ellen…collaborator…Tigh trustworthy…but he…slips on info…any info takes to quarters…she...reads. Have to separate…collaborators from…rest of Fleet."

"How?"

"Designate ship…look inside…" His breathing was becoming shallow as he continued. "Dark Day…mission plans…lists of collaborators…get Lee's list."

"Lee has a separate list?"

"Two parts…"

"Does he know about the mission?"

Bill shook his head, "No. Ask Kara. She'll deny…ask her…" Blue orbs latching onto hers, "Starbuck…what do ya hear?"

"Starbuck, what do ya hear?" She repeated. His eyes closed in relief, squeezing her hand to let her know she had gotten it. "Thank you, Bill….we'll manage thanks to your foresight."

Bill's voice softened, squeezing her hand. "You all right?" He asked, eyes fluttering open.

"Thanks to you." Laura replied, finally letting the woman out from behind the President, tears threatening to spill out of her eyes. "You really had me worried."

"Said…I wouldn't…leave."

"You almost did." Her hand was shaking.

"Believe in us." He rasped, eyes pleading.

"I do." She whispered barely audible as his eyes drooped. She ran her hand across his check, "I love you Bill."

The muscles in his face brought forth a faint smile, "I love…you."

His eyes fell close as she spoke, "See you in a few days…until then; rest my love. Rest."

Laura Roslin sat at the edge of the bed for several minutes, not moving a muscle – as she watched his breathing level off; temporarily slipping further away from her. She sat merely memorizing the contours of his face, his hands, his body and thinking of how close she had come to losing him this afternoon. And it scared the hell out of her.

_A/N: Hope you enjoyed; sorry for the length between updates._


	26. Picking up the Pieces

**Chapter 26 ~ Picking up the Pieces**

**8****th**** day / 9****th**** night after leaving New Caprica**

"Captain Thrace," The President smiled as she entered Kara's designated room in Sickbay. "I have a military strategy question for you.

Thrace propped herself up, "Happy to help Ma'am. However, Commander Adama and Colonel Tigh are the two you may wish to speak with."

Roslin's brow arched ever so slightly, "Have they both attended strategy courses through the Colonial Fleet?"

"Yes, it is required. Part of the Command curriculum at Fleet Academy." She replied.

"And yourself?"

Kara was beginning to wonder where this was heading, but she answered anyway. "No. For Command and Officer training, you attend after you have achieved the rank of Captain." Thrace's voice dropped as she finished. "And I attained the rank last year. Attending at the Academy was no longer an option."

Roslin nodded, partially in agreement – partially to remain awake. She was drained, mentally and emotionally. Physically, she was operating on willpower alone. Mentally and emotionally…she shook the thought from her head before it had additional time to break through her already battered emotional walls, and she broke down in front of the Captain. _ Not here and not know_, she told herself. "The person I would normally speak with has just been induced into a 4 day coma." Roslin paused, giving Thrace a moment to collect herself. "However, prior to that, he stated I need to speak with you."

"Me?" She looked at Roslin, _Surely he didn't want to share the details of the mission with Roslin did he? Best to switch tactics._ "You saw the Admiral?"

Laura felt herself pause, she had seen Adama merely a few moments ago, and she wished to be with him now, but the President had a job to do. "Yes." She answered succinctly.

"How is he? Cottle wouldn't give me an answer other than, he needs rest."

Laura found herself starring into pleading brown eyes, dying to know how the Admiral was doing. She found herself wondering, _How does Jack deal with this daily?_ Her respect for the doctor doubled in an instant. "Doctor Cottle's assessment is accurate. The Admiral is in dire need of rest, therefore, Cottle has induced a four day medical coma allowing his body time to heal." Roslin found herself adding slightly more to her statement, knowing the relationship that existed between the Captain and Bill. She was like his daughter. The President felt her face momentarily soften, allowing the woman beneath to show a measure of emotion. "Cottle had to give him a stimulant to wake him, and he was not coherent for long. He is not doing as well as he would like, but far better than he could have been." She replied pulling the professional mask back into place as the memory of Cottle cutting Adama's side rushed to the surface.

Thrace nodded in agreement as if they were both reliving the same memory. "I saw him…" She paused as she glanced to the floor, diverting her gaze from the President. "for a minute…" Kara shook her head banishing the thought and forced a smile onto her face..._He was her surrogate father after all, and the last think she wanted to remember is Cottle doing emergency surgery in front of her- blood covering the deck, the Admiral face blank – unconscious, Cottle frantically cutting into Adama's side – racing against time._

Roslin watched the Captain's face and fought from interrupting until it was obvious that Thrace was not or could not discuss Adama's condition further. "Starbuck…"

At the sound of her call sign, Thrace felt herself blink the tears back before meeting the President's eyes. "Ma'am."

"I spoke with the Admiral, he is going to be fine. Right now, however, I need you to focus." Roslin paused, making sure she had Thrace's undivided attention. "I need you to tell me what the Admiral and you discussed regarding Astral Body M8."

"Ma'am?" Starbuck's face scrunched as though she did not understand the question.

_Perhaps I should have retrieved and read the mission plans first, _she thought as she adjusted her glasses. Mentally berating herself, Roslin's eyes locked on Starbuck's. "Starbuck, what do ya hear?"

"I…ah…" Starbuck stopped and stared at the woman standing at the edge of her bed. Roslin's stance was laid back, arms crossed in waiting, but her eyes were hard and unrelenting. They were the eyes of the President, and they were daring Thrace to state the truth. Swallowing hard, she responded. "Nothing but the rain." Her eyes flickered to the door, "How much did he tell you?"

Roslin shook her head, "As I stated, he was not coherent long. He was able to inform me about a planned mission, where he stored the plans and to talk to you regarding them."

Thrace's blond hair bounced as she nodded, "I'd prefer not to discuss this…here."

Roslin fingered the curtain, "Agreed. I'll speak with Doctor Cottle." She took a step closer to Kara, "Tomorrow at 0800 in the Admiral's quarters."

"Ma'am? If I may ask…"

Roslin responded as if she had anticipated the question. "It's secure and I believe all of the relevant materials are discreetly accessible." _Besides I miss him all ready and being in his quarters is the closest I have for the next several days. _

"Can you arrange to have the CAG's log book transferred to his quarters too?"

Roslin repeated, "CAG's log book?"

Kara nodded, "Yes, Ma'am. From the Galactica."

The President fought back a yawn, "I'll speak with Colonel Tigh. Till tomorrow, Captain." She turned and left, her eyes feeling as though ants were crawling behind her eyes. She paused only momentarily to speak with Doctor Cottle to ensure Captain Thrace would make their meeting in the morning. Cottle grudgingly consented, and before he had the opportunity to say another word, she was standing in front of Adama's clean room fingers lightly grazing across the plastic. Her heart was in her throat, as she looked at the great Admiral Adama – with almost all of the color gone from his face and body.

_Bill, _she thought bringing her fingers up to brush across her lips, wishing his were there crashing into hers. His warmth, his touch….his breath fluttering across her skin.

Roslin closed her eyes to keep the tears from spilling onto her cheeks. Sighing, she straightened her shoulders, her hand clenching and dropping down to her side, knuckles dragging along the plastic as she forced herself to leave, drawing some comfort from the steady rise and fall of his broad chest.

_He's alive – _she chanted to herself_, wanting now more than ever to loose herself to abandon with him. To forget about the Fleet…the responsibility…how close he was to dying………to just feel…him next to her…._her feet had all ready taken her to his quarters. Her guard escort assumed their familiar posts along the Admiral's quarters as she turned the hatch, stepping inside.

Closing the hatch, she kicked off her shoes heading straight to his bookshelf, intently scanning the titles looking for one in particular – Dark Day. _Dark Day, _she mused, _wonder what possessed him to hide the information there? _Several minutes passed and she had moved to the stacks on his desk, and then into his quarters. No luck, she thought as she plopped onto the bed. And then she noticed a book, it appeared to have been haphazardly tossed under a stack of reports as though he had lost it amongst the work. _Definitely hidden in plain sight, _she mused as she carefully extracted it from beneath the pile of age old reports – _probably from before the fall of the Colonies_, she thought noticing the yellowing of the paper.

_Dark Day._ Having found the treasure, she resisted the urge to plow through it to find the hidden mission plans as she temporarily set it down on the bed, _Might as well go ahead and get comfortable._ And with that thought, she threw open Bill's closet and snatched one of his shirts – because she had _no_ intention of spending the night on Colonial One this evening. She dreaded the thought of being over on that ship after Baltar's short presidential reign. Despite the lengthy dry dock and the massive overhaul, Laura swore that the ship still retained the same repulsive odor as when she re-inherited Colonial One. Regardless of the condition of the vessel, it no longer was her home. Galactica was her home. More precisely – Adama's quarters had become her home. _Home, _she chuckled thinking back to her life on Caprica; _constantly on the go – and home was where her feet stopped for the night – nothing more. Now_…she felt a smile curl her lip…_home meant so much more. And tonight, of all nights, she intended on being at home. Wishing he was here to share it with, but_ – she took a deep breath, breathing the scent of the man she loved in – _well perhaps he is here_, she thought.

Not bothering to stave off the persistent yawn, she relented and began to adjust the lightening and lock the hatch. _After all, it had been an extremely long day – this morning_….she felt her body flush at the memory of his lips dancing across her neck…._not a bad way to wake up. This afternoon goes into the 'never want to ever…ever…ever repeat again' category. _

_Preparing for the ceremony and wondering if Bill would have the stamina to walk and subsequently climb up and down the respective ladders to the hanger deck. Goosebumps popped up on her arms as she recalled her talking to Gaius when he stepped into the room – the color in his face was off, and she knew he must have been exhausted and yet there he stood. He was dressed in his Colonial best – eyes fixed on her. Honestly, as he made his way across the deck, a bomb could have gone off next to her, and she doubt she would have noticed. And then the ceremony was over and she heard a shot, the deck rushing up, his gravely voice pulling her awake, blood covering the deck…Cottle rushing him off to sickbay…seeing his rib cage spread open…hearing the worry in Cottle's voice…_she felt her body tighten into knots as the day's events continued to fly by in rapid succession until Laura forced herself to focus on needs of the Fleet. She would have time to heal…later. She needed to prepare for her meeting with Captain Thrace in the morning.

Sighing, she climbed into the rack, pulling Dark Day to her. As she began to flip through the pages, she reached behind her on the ledge and pulled the box of Villa's Virgon chocolates down.

Laura opened the box, pausing momentarily before picking up one of the decadent candies and popping it into her mouth. It tasted positively sinful, and after the day she had…she was going to have another she thought as she a second and then a third from the box prior to closing the lid. The second piece was melting away in her mouth as several well pressed papers fluttered out. She opened and then scanned them, one by one - placing them in order and with the proper grouping; collaborators or mission plans.

As the papers became organized, Laura noticed a small piece of paper, if lucky the size of note card. Her eyes quickly absorbing the content causing her stomach to lurch and tears to run freely down her cheeks.

_Laura,_

_If you are reading this, then I am dead or incapacitated. Have faith in Apollo and Starbuck, they will see these missions through and all of the subsequent ones. As for not informing you of Astral Body M8, never found the time -for that I apologize. But I am truly sorry for not finding the time for us._

_Always yours,_

_Bill_

Later was no longer an option as her fingers tightened around the paper, latching onto it as if it had become her lifeline. Her body instinctively curled into a tight ball around his pillow – tears freely flowing down her cheeks as the pent up emotions came flooding out of her.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Lee starred at his father, tears burning his eyes. _He had almost lost him…again. _The images played in his mind; his father diving toward the President, Dualla's head spinning toward the noise…_Dee._ He could still see the pool of blood around her body and running down her chest, closing his eyes – he leaned his head against the plastic desperately trying to find a measure of peace within the raging storm. There was none to be had.

He stood there, unmoving for several minutes – tears slipping down his cheeks. And then he heard Kara's voice amongst the med techs, a sliver of sanity and peace. Righting his shoulders and straightening his back, he ducked around the flap and stopped when her brown eyes landed on his.

"Did you see your father?" Kara asked, mildly disturbed to see Lee look so out of sorts.

His jaw flexed as his shoulders tightened a moment before he nodded his head.

Kara starred at him for a moment, wondering whether she should push a bit – as he didn't appear to want to talk. "How's he look?"

Lee cast his eyes downward and took a hesitant step closer and shook his head negatively.

"I heard…" Kara began to ring her fingers while fumbling out the words. "…Lee...I'm…sorry."

His red rimmed blue eyes latched onto hers and the raw emotion emanating from them snatched the air from her lungs. His jaw clenched and his face changed, as though he were forcing the words out by sheer force of will. "It's my fault."

Kara shook her head and met Lee's tearful eyes. "It wasn't your fault."

"I should have pushed her down." He mumbled to himself as he dropped his eyes, breaking the connection.

"Lee." She edged herself closer to him. "You couldn't have known."

"I…." His voice broke, "should have."

"No." She said flatly, "You shouldn't have. You were doing your job. You went after the shooter. If you hadn't, we could have had several more deaths including the President and the 'old man.' Dee should have taken cover when the shots were fired."

He shook his head, "No….Kara….she was…." He bit his lip. "Trying to help."

Kara reached over and for a millisecond she paused and then she was pulling her friend into a hug. His body racking with sobs, "….why…her? Why not Baltar?"

"I don't know, Lee." She too wondered how that miserable bastard always came away relatively unscathed.

They sat unmoving, Lee against Kara's shoulder – her arms wrapped around his shoulders, until Kara realized Lee had fallen asleep. After several mutterings under her breath, she maneuvered him onto her hospital bed. Cottle stepped in as she was slipping his shoes off.

"Apparently you are moving to the room next door." He stated before asking,

"How is your head?"

"Headache is approaching a 6."

"Throw a cover on him, and get yourself next door and in your bed. I'll have one of techs stop in here and make sure the Commander is still drooling until morning." He muttered before stepping back out of her room.

She set his second shoe on the floor and pulled her blanket over him. He shifted, murmured something and then was out again. Dimming the light beside the bed, she grabbed her newly acquired cigars and moved to the room next door.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Cottle blinked at the test results, all 680 of them – soon to be 679. Other than the occasional flu virus, he did not see any abnormalities. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he glanced at the clock on the wall – 0130. _Wonder why I'm tired,_ he chided himself and with that finished typing the final lines of his report to the President and Admiral. Despite Cottle's best efforts, he knew the Admiral would have this report in his hands within a day at best two after waking in a few days. And as much as he argued with the President and every other person about his need for privacy, no work and sleep to enable full recovery, Jack knew the hard core truth that went along with his argument. Galactica could survive and muddle through for a few days, perhaps a week - the Fleet maybe two weeks, but he was one of the two components that held it together and Galactica nor the Fleet could survive much longer than that without him.

So, he was making a tactical judgment. Four days. Shaking his head as he stood, _who needs to play cards to gamble – _he thought silently praying to the Lords of Kobol that this gamble didn't result in the annihilation of the human species.

Jack turned off the lights to his office, report in hand as he stopped by each of his patient's rooms on his way to his rack. The chart read, Captain Kara Thrace. He scanned down to her vitals – she was doing much better. Her body was sucking down fluids. He'd release her to her quarters and rack tomorrow, barring her test results from the brain algorithms.

Commander Lee Adama lay in the bed next to Starbuck, utterly exhausted. The events in the hanger deck in the afternoon were going to leave him emotionally traumatized for some time. When Jack confirmed that the Commander had passed out, he gave him a small dose of barbiturates to ensure he slept through the night. And then he promptly called Colonel Tigh earlier, informing Saul that the Commander would not be available until 0600.

Heavy clear plastic separated him from the Admiral, his chart and the med tech assigned to the Admiral for the evening. Cottle may have gambled, but he was going to keep the odds where he liked them and not take any unnecessary chances. Hence, a med tech would be sitting with the Admiral constantly monitoring all of his vitals. The med tech gave a nod, and Cottle watched the steady rise and fall of Adama's chest for another minute before moving to the last patient in sickbay this evening – the former lunatic president, Gauis Baltar.

The bullet had pierced and lodged itself in his left abdominal muscle. An emergency to be sure, but not overtly life threatening one considering the day. He had lost several pints of blood before Cottle removed the bullet. Causing his white cell count to be markedly lower due to the blood loss, however, it was still within normal limits. He was sucking down fluids, too – undoubtedly his body eliminating the anesthetic. The rest of his vitals were normal, and Jack momentarily thought of keeping him sedated during his tenure in sickbay – but as he replaced Gauis' chart he thought better of it; _After all, it would be a waste on our limited resources. _Shaking his head, he took a step toward the door when he thought he saw the tall blonde Cylon model wearing a long red dress standing next to Baltar in his peripheral vision. In an instant, he stopped and looked. No one was there, save for the former president. _Must be more tired than I thought_, he clutched the report and left with one last stop to make before he turned into his quarters.

He walked the quiet and familiar halls of the Galactica, quickly arriving in front of the Admiral's quarters – Roslin's guard positioned along the corridor. The guards' nodded at the Doctor, knowing their life was better off if they didn't interrupt or ask him to cease and desist. The guards were well aware that he would not be here, unless it was important. And push come to shove, they'd rather have the President irritated with them than the Doctor.

Cottle tried the latch, only to find out that it was locked. Sighing, he pulled out his key, inserted it into the mechanism to override the lock. Carefully he tucked the key away and then opened the hatch. The room was pitch black save for the small amount of light coming from the hall.

Jack made his way into the Admiral's room, cursing as he bumped into a variety of small objects – many of which would undoubtedly leave a mark. His hand bumped into Adama's desk, and he quickly searched for and subsequently flipped on the switch bathing the room in light. Straightening, Jack finished walking into the Admiral's bedroom where he found a bundle of covers in the middle of the bed haphazardly draped over the President. Her glasses were still on, mashed against her arm and the side of her face – legs tucked against her chest and a small piece of paper clutched in her hand.

Jack rubbed his forehead for a moment, forcing his tired brain to think. _Try to move her without waking her or wake her…_he knew she needed to get some sleep, otherwise she would have returned to Colonial One tonight – but his dilemma still remained. Biting back his own yawn made his decision for him, he knelt down beside her.

"Madame President." He stated softly as he shook her shoulder. He was about to shake her again, when a raspy voice mumbled - "This had better be good."

"Come on." He began to pull her glasses off.

Roslin's eyes squinted open, her tired mind wondering who could access the Admiral's quarters when they were locked – and in an instant it clicked. He and the Admiral had a master key to Galactica. "Jack." She licked her dry lips. "Is Bill all right?"

"Yes." He helped her sit up, "Yoshan is sitting with him to monitor his vitals as we speak."

Her brain was waking up, and she realized she was wearing very little and discreetly began to re-arrange the covers. "Isn't it a little late to be making house calls?"

Jack smiled, "Yes. But, I stopped by to see how you were holding up. And thought you might want to move in the morning…" His yawn momentarily interrupting him, "And to be frank I was too tired to try and move you without waking you." He stood as another yawn overcame him. He reached into his jacket pocket, "I want you to take one of these with dinner for the next four days." He instructed as he handed her a small bottle.

She looked at him, perplexed. "What….?"

"Something to help you sleep."

Her voice was dry, "I was sleeping just fine until you came in."

"Crying yourself asleep does not constitute as sleeping just fine. He'll be fine, and you need to get a few good nights of sleep." He held up the report, drawing her attention to it before setting it on the small table on the other side of the room. "No abnormalities found in any of the 680 children's blood. I have commissioned two reports, one for you and the Admiral – the other for Dr. Baltar. I omitted Hera's blood, but left her name on the second report with a Oliyia's blood sample and omitted her name from his report."

"Thank you." She smiled, setting the bottle on the ledge behind her.

"Goodnight." Jack turned and was switching off the light when her voice called after him.

"Jack, make sure to lock that damn hatch on your way out or you'll find a sudden shortage of cigarette's in the Fleet."

"Yes, Ma'am." He replied chuckling as he opened the hatch. _She definitely doesn't play fair, _he thought locking the hatch and counting the blessed seconds down until he was asleep in his rack.

_A/N: Thank you for your kind reviews, hope you enjoyed this chapter._


	27. 3 Days Missy

**Chapter 27 ~ Three Days Missy…**

**9****th**** Day after leaving New Caprica**

President Roslin stepped into sickbay, everyone stepping out of her way, she was a woman on a mission. Pulling the curtain aside, she entered Dr. Gauis Baltar's makeshift area.

"Ah…" His brown eyes raised in surprise, "Madame President." Obviously, he was not expecting to see her step through the door. "What a surprise." And to his credit, he didn't try and hide it.

"Understatement." Six replied as she dragged her hand through his hair, and circled the bed - a predator stalking its prey. "What is _she_ doing here?"

"Dr. Baltar." She replied, succinctly. And then out of politeness asked, "How are you, today?"

His once crisp appearance was completely masked by the man before her; hair greasy, stubble of a beard and partially sunken in eyes staring up at her. "Cottle stated I would make a full recovery."

Six's lip curled into a snarl, "Which is more than I can say for your precious Admiral."

Roslin noticed his eyes dart to the left of her as he finished, and she forced herself to stand where she was and not move. Roslin's eyes smiled as she thought, _what a shame, _but, "Glad to hear." Echoed aloud. She took a deep breath cleansing the lies that had just poured out from her mouth. "If you are feeling up to it today, I have just received the report we commissioned Dr. Cottle regarding the children. Here." She extended out the report, laying it in his hands. "And would like you to look at the cursory data to see if you notice anything out of the ordinary."

"Careful Gauis."

"Yes…love to. It's dreadfully boring in here." He picked up the report and began thumbing through the pages. "How many children did he sample?" Noticing the overwhelming amount of data sets, especially for 25 children.

Roslin's head tilted ever so slightly, "679 children, encompassing one year through 5 years. The twenty-five we are interested have been asterisked, and the summary focuses on their information."

"Very well." He replied and glanced up. It took every ounce of his self-control not to say a word or appear as though anything was out of the ordinary, as Six's hands were nearly around Roslin's throat. His left eyebrow raised as he covertly directed his gaze at Six, "I wouldn't…and don't mind at all." He forced a smile onto his face. "Perhaps early this evening?"

Roslin smiled, "Thank you, Doctor." And she turned and left, trying to shrug off the eerie feeling that had washed over her while in his presence.

"What do you think you are doing?" He whispered - 3 octaves higher than usual.

Six shook her head, "Gauis," She leaned closer, breath dancing across his ear. "She's dangerous."

He turned to her, lips drawn across a line. "Do you think?"

"No." She shook her head, as he wasn't grasping the relevance of the situation. "I mean for our survival."

"Ours or the Cylons?"

"Both."

Baltar starred after Roslin for a few minutes, she had all ready left sickbay, oddly enough not stopping by the….he turned to Six. "She and the Admiral?"

"Their relationship is beginning to change." She stated, recalling the event on the hanger deck, an old passage of scripture spilling from her lips. "And the dying leader shall find sanctuary within the arms of a mortal god…" Her voice trailing off, "This **cannot** happen Gauis."

xoxoxoxoxoxox

"Sorry I'm late." President Roslin stated as she stepped into the Ward Room, pulling the hatch closed behind her. "I…" She lifted her gaze and the words died in her throat. Adama's face was crimson and Tigh's jaw was pulsating. Neither one turned around toward the President, and Roslin couldn't help notice that mere inches were separating their faces. _Another minute_, she thought, _and one of the two would be picking themselves up from the deck._ She cleared her throat and walked toward them. "As I was saying, sorry I'm late."

Grudgingly they both stepped apart as she neared, finally looking at her. "Madame President." They chorused.

Respectively, she tilted her head towards them before diving into business. "Commander have you briefed the Colonel?"

A bead of sweat trickled down Apollo's face. "Yes, Ma'am." He snapped.

Roslin looked at the Commander and then to the Colonel and couldn't help the sigh escape from her lips. In a blink, she brought her eyes to meet the Colonel's and felt a measure of satisfaction when Tigh's face momentarily baulked as he locked eyes with Roslin. Arching her eyes, she pulled her glasses off and then crossed her arms - glasses dangling between her fingertips. "Colonel Tigh, you have objections?" She asked, her voice matching her demeanor.

Clearing his throat, he glanced to Adama before turning his full attention to the President. "Yes. How do you know that _those_," He pointed to the list on the table, a hard edge creeping into his voice. "People collaborated?"

Her eyes darted to the paper harmlessly resting on the table. The same pieces of paper, she and Apollo had deliberated over after her meeting with Captain Thrace this morning. She shrugged her shoulders, casually responding. "We don't know for certain, Colonel."

"Then how in the Gods can you expect _us_ to carry out these orders?" He questioned, hand flailing in the air to drive the point home.

She dropped her eyes to the floor for a second as her glasses danced between her fingers, internally running through the same argument she had with herself this morning on reading the information and again with Apollo.

"_How do we know if the persons listed here collaborated willingly or out of necessity?" Roslin paced across the worn carpet._

"_Some of these names are from your lists, Madame President." Lee countered, "What criteria did you and other members of the Resistance use to place these people on your lists?"_

_  
His comment stopped her dead in her tracks._

Inhaling a deep breath, setting her jaw, Roslin pierced Tigh with the potency of her gaze. "The same way you expected the men and woman on New Caprica to carry out your orders, Colonel." Fire practically jumping from her eyes as Laura found her resolve to continue with the mission. "The names on that list are comprised from six sources, Saul. You drafted one. Or have you forgotten your time on New Caprica and the definition of what constituted as a willingly and unwillingly collaborator?"

Saul shifted, swallowing - hard. His voice barely audible, "Ellen's name..."

_Today was not a good day, _Roslin thought cutting straight to the point with Tigh. "I put her name on the list."

The veins in his neck jumped to the surface, "YOU WHAT?!"

_In for a cubit..._ "She is the one who turned you in." Laura stated matter a factly. Lee grabbed Tigh into a bear hug, shielding the President from his fury.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE….SHE WOULDN'T…"He yelled, spit flying from his mouth.

The President merely stood there, waiting and watching for several minutes as Tigh came to terms with her revelation.

Anger raging across his features, arms flinging, face red and eyes popping.

Shock…eyes becoming glazed over, still trying to reach and harm the President, but the force behind it was beginning to wane.

Disbelief….he pushed away from Lee mumbling "impossible…not Ellen."

Doubt….eyes narrowing, glaring at Roslin…

Hurt…realization of how the Cylons knew as much as they did…

Resentment…jaw becoming set, eyes blackening…

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked, voice raw with emotion.

Laura thought back to the moment when she had decided not to tell Saul about Ellen, and then at the man in front of her. The answer was simple,"You love her, Saul. How do you tell the man who saved your life that the woman who he loves, and his reason for living turned him over to the Cylons?"

Instantly Lee felt uncomfortable. He knew Tigh would be upset, and the President had stated this morning that if the Colonel had a problem regarding Ellen being on the list, she would speak with him…but this is not at all how he thought it would play out. He looked from Tigh to Roslin and back again, not sure if he should even breath.

Tigh was furious and deeply hurt from Roslin's revelation, however, her honesty despite the consequences is why he respected her. With a shaky arm, he extended his hand to the President.

Roslin clasped his hand and gave him a sad smile. His eyes almost becoming ghostly as he nodded back. She knew this was his way of thanking her, he wouldn't be able to voice it nor did she ever wish to hear it. Instead, she wished it wasn't true, because the man before her eyes seemed to shrink immeasurably. _And why wouldn't he_, she thought. _She had just cleaved his heart in two…and ripped away a piece of his soul…and she had done it to a man who had saved her life and who she called a friend._

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Roslin's feet flew over the decks, it was close to 8 and she had yet to think of dinner - frak, she was running well behind today. Her guard quickly opening the door for her, and she headed straight to Baltar's bed; only to find him drooling on his pillow. _Damn, _she thought, _now I'll have to squeeze him into tomorrow's schedule. _Sighing, she turned on her heel and nodded to her guard, signaling him over. "Can you please tell Tory to juggle Dr. Baltar into my schedule tomorrow?"

"Ahh…" Dickins nodded, it wasn't unusual for the President to ask for assistance remembering thinks to be placed on her schedule… If he had her schedule…he'd need far more help than she ever seemed to need. "Yes, Ma'am."

Roslin smiled, "Thank you." She continued walking toward the door, but her steps became increasingly slower. She turned her head, casting a glance toward the clean room. She had been in sickbay earlier today and within a corridor two other times, and all three times she had resisted seeing him. But now…

"Ma'am?" Dickins stopped when he noticed the gap growing between them.

"I'm sorry, I forgot I needed to clarify a point with Doctor Cottle. I'll be a few moments." She turned and headed into the heart of sickbay, each step bringing her closer to Adama.

Cottle saw her duck in to speak with Baltar and then almost bee line out before stopping and hesitantly returning. He met her in the middle of the room, "Good evening, Ma'am."

"Doctor." She replied, "How is the Admiral?"

The formality of her tone, stance, and language was not lost on Cottle. "His BP has strengthened to 83. White count still incredibly low, but it has increased 20 percent in the past 12 hours." He drew the privacy curtain around the clean room.

"I thought you had a med tech assigned…" Her voice trailed off as her eyes followed her hand, her eyes finally landing on Bill for the first time today.

"Yes, when I am in my office pouring over reports, or not in sickbay." He stated, firing up a cigarette waiting patiently for the President to refocus her attention.

"His color is coming back." She stated to herself and then turned to Jack. "Is he aware of his surroundings?"

He blew out a billow of smoke, "Studies have always been inconclusive."

"Maybe he would hear my voice…"

Cottle raised an eyebrow, cigarette hanging from his mouth as he shook his head. "No. Not happening. Three more days, missy. I don't care who you are, or who you'd like to frak."

Laughter erupted from behind the curtain, echoing around sickbay. Laura wiped her eyes under her glasses hoping to catch the tears from running down her cheeks. "Don't I wish…" She replied between chuckles, feeling the weight of the day ease ever so much.

Cottle only shook his head in response, and then smudged his cigarette out as he returned to business. "Baltar spent all day going through the report. He was definitely looking for something in particular."

The mere mention of Baltar's name brought the Presidential mask back in a heartbeat. "Or someone." Roslin's left eyebrow arched to enunciate her point.

Cottle nodded in agreement. "Whatever he was looking for, I don't believe he found it. As his report fell, and landed on the other side of sickbay."

Her face broke into wry grin. "Glad he had a good day, then."

"He may not have, but…" He pointed toward Adama, "He did." Knowing that she could and would deal with Baltar tomorrow, right now she needed to know that the person she loved was on the mend.

And he was right. A smile touching her eyes lit up her face. "Now, go and eat before the breeze from the hatch starts to blow you away."

"I ate…" Her counter-argument died in her throat as her stomach churned loud enough for him to hear.

Pulling another cigarette from his lapel, he mumbled. "Yesterday's breakfast doesn't count."

The look she gave him would have killed a lesser person, but Cottle continued about as though she were still smiling from their banter mere moments before. He pulled the curtain open, firing up his cigarette. "His blood work will be done at 0730, I'll know more then. And that should give you ample time to find some food."

Straightening her shoulders, she mumbled barely loud enough for him to hear as she walked past. "So much for allocating any cigarettes to medical practitioners."

"That's why I go on house calls, Madame President." He replied picking up Baltar's chart while humming a forgotten melody from the twelve colonies.

Roslin exited sickbay leaving the weight of the day behind, and greeted Dickins with a smile even though he handed her a pile of notes. "Ma'am, Tory asked me to make sure you ate this evening."

"Right…" Roslin headed up the corridor, wishing she were heading to Bill's quarters but instead toward the forward hanger deck and the waiting Raptor One. "I'll grab something on Colonial One." She replied to Dickins as she rifled through the pile of messages Tory had given to Dickins.

"Madame President." Came Chief Tyrol's voice out of the blue, and then Roslin glanced up and realized they were in the hanger deck.

"Chief. Working late?" She stated as he fell in step with her.

"Yeah, we're a bit behind on repairs." He stated, eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief.

She nodded, knowing full well that Galactica and Pegasus were not in prime condition when the liberated New Caprica - and the past 9 days had taken an additional toll on the Battlestars. Noticing the sparkle in his eye, she pulled herself from her messages. "What do are you trying to cook up Chief?"

He stopped abruptly, feigning innocence. "I have no idea what you are referring to."

Her mouth quirked up, "I'm glad the Cylons didn't interrogate you."

Tyrol's face broke into a broad grin, and then he stepped closer. "Ma'am, the deck gang needs your permission."

_Trouble was starring at her with large brown eyes, and his name was Galen. _"Dare I ask?"

"We would like to give the Admiral something."

The President stopped walking and starred at the Tyrol. She knew she was tired, but he wasn't making sense. Taking off her glasses, her gaze turned thoughtful. "I'm missing the connection, Chief."

Tyrol shook his head, realizing his error. "Oh…yeah. Sorry." He spluttered out before launching into his explanation. "Prior to the fall of the Colonies, the deck gang salvaged the Admiral's viper – it has been in service, flying missions until 8 days ago. She took a hit, and she is unable to be repaired and marked for viper repair. We would like to take the plating off that has his name etched on the side and…" He paused, searching for the right words. "Well…etch his family on it and give it to him as means of saying thank you. However, we are unable to use any aspect of a downed viper that we can salvage for another ship, especially the plating."

The President was at a loss for words. Tyrol was starring at her, emotion pouring out of him. He, along with the entire crew of the Galactica and a large portion of the Fleet wanted to _do_ something for Bill – herself included. She wanted to know how he would depict _his family_ and who he would include, but she refrained. If he had wanted her to know, he would have told her. "Permission granted, but make sure you don't use an inch more than you have to."

"Yes, Ma'am. You can count on that." Tyrol was all ready three feet away mouthing thank you as he began calling the deck gang over to him for a meeting.

Roslin headed onto the Raptor, mind snapping back to the rest of her evening's schedule; Commander Adama along with Captain Thrace and Colonial Tigh would be on Colonial One at 2030 to finalize their mission plans for Astral Body M8, Maya had dropped the education curriculum off before lunch today for review, Wally needed at least a half hour to brief her regarding the latest draft of potential hydroponics locations, and then her calls she still needed to be returned…_ So much for any rest,_ she thought moving to her customary seat on the Raptor and sitting down. Letting out a sigh, she grasped the rare quiet opportunity and leaned her head back, closing her eyes as the pilot finished with the pre-flight checklist.

She felt her mind switch the President _off_ as the Raptor door swished shut, allowing her mind to roll through the day. Within seconds, it drifted from simply recalling the events to her visualizing sitting across from Bill, having a quiet dinner while they walked through their respective day…

_"I thought Baltar was going to have a heart attack when I walked into the room." She stated, scooping some fresh vegetables onto her plate. His raised eyes and small grin were all he allotted as he piled more noodles onto his fork, Laura continuing on…._

_"…really, Bill. Saul snapped. I really wish you could have been there." He leaned forward, worry lining his eyes as his hand reached over encompassing hers. "Thank the Lords Lee was there." She shook her head, as if trying to banish the memory. "It took every fiber of me to stand less than three feet away from him and remain unresponsive."_

_Glasses half full of Silver Labeled Ambrosia sat forgotten on the table as his mouth plunged into hers, searching and yielding in equal measure. The space between them diminishing as her back touched the cool wall, her hands sliding up his chest, one hand drifting to his jacket's clasps - the other snaking into his hair, pulling him closer, deeper. _

_She felt his hands dance across her blazer, across her arms, through her hair and then they were blazing across her stomach - igniting her senses and her wanton desire to feel more..._

_His jacket lay in a rumpled heap on the floor, her fingers raking up his back as she pulled his shirts off too. His soft hands sliding across her shoulders and down her arms - discarding her blazer efficiently and then his mouth was burning a path along her neck…her shoulder. His hand skimming up her side…along her breast as he nipped at her ear. A moan escaping through her lips…_

"Ma'am."

Roslin's eyes jerked open, heart pounding in her ears. _I'm on the Raptor…heading back to Colonial One._ Dickins was kneeling next to her, concern lining his features. "Are you sure your all right?"

Roslin blinked, _Am I all right? Of course, until you woke me up. _"Yes, just a bit of headache." She feigned a smile before closing her eyes again and rocking her head back and forth, absently rubbing her neck – silently wishing they were Bill's hands.

"Do I need to contact Doc Cottle?" Again, Dickins voice interrupted her ruminations.

She cracked an eyelid, "I don't think that will be necessary. Long day and I need to eat."

"Any preference on food?" He asked.

_Is Bill on the menu tonight?_ A stray thought hoped. "Preferably something warm." She stated while lifting her head up.

He nodded and was on the comm channel to Colonial One instantly. _At least I'll be able to satiate one appetite_, she thought picking up the last of the messages. _Just not the one I'd prefer._

A/N: No this story has not been forgotten  Enjoy!


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28 ~ Consequences of Our Actions…**

**10****th**** Day**

Tigh shrugged on his jacket, hoping he didn't wake Ellen. Lords help him if he did. He didn't know what he would say, let alone do. He didn't bother clasping his jacket, he'd do that on his way to CIC. He snatched up his boots, jamming one foot after the other into them and almost jumped through his skin when she shifted to her side. Not wasting another moment, he grabbed his folder off the table and sealed the hatch behind him.

The corridor was dead quiet as he took the handful of steps necessary to round the corner and finish straightening his attire. _It was going to be a long day; the funeral, the President's meeting with the Quorum; placement of the strike teams for collaborator retrieval; placing known collaborators on the Astral Queen…including Ellen._

He swung by the galley and grabbed a breakfast roll before heading to CIC. It was barely edible, but he _had_ to get something in his stomach. He hadn't been able to keep anything down since yesterday, not even a glass of Ambrosia last night. And he had _wanted_ to keep the Ambrosia down, _a lot_ of Ambrosia down.

Tigh swallowed the last bit as he stepped onto CIC. "Report." He commanded, desperately trying to keep his mind focused and occupied on something other than Ellen or his stomach.

"Sir, here's the comm. traffic; one from the Astral Queen, two from the President, Commander Adama will be arriving in ten minutes and I need you to sign off on the fuel report."

Tigh initialed off as he skimmed the notes, "Is the hanger deck prepared for the funeral this morning?" He absently asked Gaeta.

"Yes, Sir. Brother Ayeron is aboard and will be presiding." Gaeta replied matter a factly.

Tigh nodded, his thoughts jumping ahead to the funeral and then the beginning of the end…detainment of the collaborators on the Astral Queen. He could see her long blond hair swinging loosely at her shoulders, encasing her porcelain face as her emerald eyes shot daggers of hatred into him as the marine guard carried off of Galactica. _So much for not thinking of Ellen, _he thought as his eyes glanced toward the clock. _Ten more hours…_

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxo

Starbuck's eyes were riveted on the monitors, sickbay drifting into the background. Adama was going to make it. He had too. They had lost so much these last 2 weeks…they couldn't lose him too.

She couldn't lose him. Not him, he was the single constant left in her life. He **had **to live. Kara stepped a hairs breath closer to the plastic, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest.

He seemed so peaceful, relaxed – not at all like the man she knew. She felt herself smile, Adama was anything but uncomplicated. The many facets to the man were kept well hidden beneath his weathered exterior.

Zach had the same depth and complexity as his father; Lee…was more like his mother. Zach's death had served as a catalyst to their relationship; granting her access where few were ever permitted to tread. She had seen so much of him, and yet…there was still so much that remained hidden.

"Doctor Baltar." Thrace turned her head at the sound of the President's voice. Roslin had just entered Baltar's room.

_Speaking of hidden_, Thrace's eyes turned back to the Admiral - drawing much needed strength and reassurance from his steady breathing. Today, the President had ordered to begin the mission that she and the Admiral worked up prior to leaving New Caprica's orbit. She just wished he was awake…she felt herself exhale a deep breath, but at least he's alive and he'd be awake in a 2 days. As long as they didn't botch anything up, he'd be awake for their jump to Astral Body M8.

Her concern was for the former…Kara didn't know how they were going to arrest 347 people, deal with some of their respective families, transport them to the Astral Queen and then split the Fleet into two separate entities without botching _something_ up.

"Please Lords…just don't let a Cylon incursion happen during the midst of this too." She mumbled as she headed toward the Ward Room for the final briefing with Lee and Tigh before this afternoon.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxo

"Feeling much better, thank you for asking."

"Did you have an opportunity to look at the report compiled by Doctor Cottle?" Roslin watched his face closely, all ready knowing the answer.

Baltar's eyes didn't flinch, remaining locked on Roslin's. The only evidence was the slight stutter in his voice, "I uhh…" He cleared his throat, "Sorry." Smiling well short of his eyes, he continued on. "I briefly glanced at the report you provided yesterday, and the cursory scan did not reveal any abnormalities…" His smile broadening, "Which is good to see."

Roslin agreed, "Wonderful news."

"However, I would appreciate it if Doctor Cottle would forward the blood samples to my lab where I can run additional tests and verify his findings."

"Excellent." Six remarked, running her hand along his cheek.

The President shook her head, fully expecting this tactic from Baltar. "Once Doc Cottle clears you, I will have him submit the samples to your lab for further review. Thank you for taking the time to look at the results."

"Quite welcome. And thank you, Madame President." He sincerely stated.

Nodding, she spun on her heal, leaving Baltar alone with Six.

"How long will it take you to run the samples?" Six asked as she moved toward the curtain.

He shrugged his shoulders, "Perhaps two, three days at the most. We'll know for certain if they have altered any of the tests."

She turned to him, "That's if they give you all of the samples."

Gauis ran a hand through his hair, "Yes, but if we are missing any, we'll know where to look. And I have a few blood samples to cross match with the names I receive from Cottle, to verify the names belong to the samples I receive."

Six graced him with a smile before turning her attention to the blonde haired woman and the man lying behind her. "You know…" Her voice trailed off for a moment, "It's a shame he must die."

Baltar glanced in the direction she was looking, "Adama? You can't be serious."

Six pivoted, sauntering toward him. "Quite. He doesn't know when to quit, believing there is hope." She dropped her hand, running it up his leg. "His tenacity…passion…so controlled…" Eyes arching upwards, "So alive...keeping the Fleet together…"

"How admirable." He replied, flippantly.

She smiled, "Depths of emotions…" Her fingers now dancing across the inside of his thigh, his attention waning with her menstruations. "Driving needs…" She mumbled across his lips, climbing onto the bed.

"Humanity." He replied as his hands hiked up her legs, drawing her dress up as she straddled his waist, his fingers pulling her closer - deeper, hips thrusting. "Yes."

She stopped moving, pinning him to the bed; his deep brown eyes laden with passion starring up at her, "It's what humanity has, Gauis."

He swallowed hard, trying to force his brain to work. "And that is?"

She flexed her inner muscles, causing his eyes to roll back. "Love." She whispered moving her hips, pulling him deeper into her.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Lee gritted his teeth, desperately trying to keep the tears from falling off his lashes as the bay doors closed on Dee's tube. "Attend hut."

All military personnel remained at attention as the Galactica fired Anastasia Dualla's body into the deep of space.

"Dismissed." Adama stated; eyes still focused on the bay doors. _Another life, another loved one, my wife…gone. _

Officers of the Galactica and Pegasus gave him their condolences for his loss, one after another. He nodded while taking their hand, thanked them, and was taking someone else's hand. After ten perhaps dozens more, Lee realized he was numb. _I'm just going through the motions. _And as another person stated how much Dee would be missed, he blinked – _how many have we buried…_

"Thank you…" His voice sounding distant to his ears. _How many more will we bury? How many until I'm the one being buried? My father? Kara?_

_Will there be anyone left to remember us?_

"Lee…" Familiarity…his blue eyes latching onto the person whose hand was slowly pulling him from the crowd. "You need some air." The voice resonated as they stepped behind a squadron of vipers.

Lee blinked his eyes again, willing them to focus… "Kara?" The pressure on his arm began to ebb away as he stumbled, his legs no longer supporting him. He felt his breath rush from his lungs, the lights blending together - sparkling, like dawn on the Caprican beach.

"I…'m s…orrr…y, K…ra." He mumbled into the blackness.

"Dammit." Kara snapped as she motioned to Tyrol to get he medkit.

The Chief came flying over, with the large red container in tow. "Here." He slid to a stop next to Kara who was kneeling beside the Commander.

She dredged through the kit, quickly finding what she was looking for. Snapping the pack in half, she passed the smelling salts under his nose – two, three…his hand slapped away the foul odor as he quickly sat up.

"What…?" He looked around, noticing he was now sitting on the deck floor, Kara kneeling beside him and the Chief holding a medkit.

"Not so fast." Kara placed a restraining hand on his shoulder.

Lee turned to make a remark, and his stomach lurched. He swallowed back the bile, jaw clenched. "Help me to the head." He managed as another wave passed over him.

Kara and Tyrol grabbed him on either side, careful to remain behind the cover of the Vipers, as the half dragged half carried him while sprinting to the nearest head. They made it just in time. Lee was hugging the toilet, as Kara and Tyrol slid down the wall catching their breath.

"Is he going to be all right?" Galen asked.

Kara nodded, "Yeah. As all right as any of us are." She wiped her arm across her forehead, pushing her hair back.

Galen cocked his head, eyes momentarily squinting. _Sharon…Sammy…Dee…_ "Denial," He paused, smile pulling at his face as he stood back up. "Works wonders."

Kara chuckled, "Yes." Tyrol pulled her up. "It does." She brushed off her legs, "Do you ever sweep this place?"

He shook his head, "No. We've been saving it for a rainy day."

Kara tilted her head towards the partially closed door, "Thanks."

"Just keep it in the head and off the deck and we're even." Tyrol stated before heading back to work.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door. "You alive?"

"Yeah." Came a shaky reply, and he pushed the door open.

"Gods, you look like hell." Kara squatted next to him, "How much did you drink last night?"

He turned his neck, looking at her. "Not much. A few glasses."

"Of what?" She began to ask, and then held up her hand. "Don't tell me, Tyrol's brew."

His brows knitted together, "One glass and some Ambrosia."

"Feel like some Galactica slop?" She straightened back up, dropping her hand down.

"Not really." He clasped her hand.

"Tough." She stated as she helped him to his feet. "Friends' prerogative."

"Kara…" He shook his head. "I'm fine."

Her hands found a home on her hips, "Lee, you're not fine." Agitation lacing her voice as her lips formed into straight line. "And don't try and tell me that you are." Her hand flew off her hip, "I've been where you are. Dry heaves, blacking out, feeling like the world is closing in on you…"

He stepped closer, "And that makes you an expert. Perfect to help me out. Help me through my _pain_. Is that it Kara?"

Kara tilted her head as she bit her lip. Fighting to keep cool, but his remarks were hitting on a far too sensitive nerve. "Lee, no one is an _expert. _I just have been where you have been. And I want you to know that I'm here." She stated softly.

He bit back his first remark, knowing it was anger talking. Not anger at her, but just anger. And that was the last thing he wanted to do right now, and that was to intentionally hurt Kara. Taking a deep cleansing breath, he took a step back. "Lunch, huh?"

Kara nodded, "Yeah. That's the best remedy I can offer when we are about to arrest 400 people whom we've labeled as collaborators."

Lee fell in step beside her, "Hmmm. Something uplifting and positive to look forward to."

Kara smiled, "Welcome to the Galactica, Commander."

He glanced at her through the corner of his eyes, "Thanks, Kara."

Her face softened, "Anytime Lee."

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Tory nodded to the President as she ducked into the Ward Room. The Commander was ready. And that meant the end of civilized days as they would know it amongst the Fleet for sometime to come. Not that she didn't have faith in the military, she did. Quite a bit of faith, as long as the Admiral was the one calling the shots. Not that his son wasn't cut out for it, he just…wasn't yet.

Tory watched as Roslin began to close down the meeting with Quorum. For someone who did not aspire to be in politics, she was a master at it.

"I'd like to thank you for your patience in advance, as I do have one final matter to bring before the Quorum." Roslin stated, bringing the rustling of papers to a halt.

Zarek met Roslin's eyes. _He knows._ Tory thought as the President began handing packets of paper out to each Quorum member.

"As all of you are aware, while on New Caprica there were those persons who were within the resistance, persons who tried to make the best of an untenable situation by not getting involved, persons who were forced to cooperate with the Cylons because of family being threatened if they did not cooperate, and those persons who willingly collaborated with the Cylons - no threat, just personal gain." She paused, leaning against the table, waiting for the Quorum to give her their attention. Slowly, everyone stopped shuffling through their paperwork, and Roslin had the room.

Crossing her arms in front of her, Tory watched as she set her jaw, back became ever so much straighter, and her eyes lanced out at everyone at once. "We have been set before a cross roads, and it is an unpleasant one. We are on the verge of coming to our first marker on the road to Earth."

The room practically jumped out of excitement, elated at the glowing news. The level of chatter around the room began to subside as their eyes turned to their President expecting the same level of enthusiasm, she didn't. Her arms remained crossed, and her demeanor unchanged.

"However, we cannot jump to the coordinates of the first marker, without those persons who collaborated having access to this information. Thus, potentially thwarting our plans and having a trap lying in wait to spring on the Fleet and kill what remains of humanity."

The steady and quiet thrum of the Galactica's engines were the only noise echoing off the metal walls. Tory couldn't even hear another persons' breathing. And then Tom Zarek shattered the moment. "Has the Commander worked out a plan?"

Roslin's face didn't budge, as she shook her head no. "I'm afraid not, Tom." The collective room's shoulders sagged. "However, the Admiral has." She stated, and their heads snapped up, eyes filled with hope.

"When?" Ramody, the Geminon delegate asked and then launched into the obvious. "He's been incapacitated for…."

Roslin cleared her throat; "I'm not at liberty to discuss all the details with you regarding the mission at this juncture. Prior to leaving orbit on New Caprica, the Admiral developed mission plans on how to move the Fleet ahead without being decimated. Those plans are going to be implemented in less than twenty minutes…"

Neal Webber, the Tauron delegate, stood. "What are your plans? Arrest people without charge?" He shook his head, "People won't stand for it."

The door to the Ward Room opened, Colonial Tigh entered flanked with a Marine Guard. "Mr. Webber, I am here to escort you to the Astral Queen."

"You can't be serious." He screeched. The guards began approaching him, and he went on a tirade. "I did not collaborate! They put a gun to my head! I didn't help them!" He turned to Roslin, eyes on fire. "You Frakking Bitch!"

The guards detained him, placing his hands in cuffs as he continued yelling profanities at the President.

"Neal." Roslin pulled her glasses down from her face, stepping closer. He stopped moving, pure unadulterated hatred emanating from his eyes. She met his gaze, unflinching. "We have all made our choices. And we must live with the consequences of those choices. Enjoy your stay aboard the Astral Queen."

His voice died away as the guard escorted him out of the Ward Room, away from the Quorum members. Without missing a beat, she placed her glasses back on, "Questions."

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Roslin closed the door to the head, and practically fell to floor as the trembling overcame her body. She closed her eyes, leaning her head back on the wall - and began gasping for a breath. _What a frakking nightmare!_ She thought sucking in another breath.

"Ma'am. You have another three minutes until the press conference." Tory's voice rang through the door.

Roslin forced her hands to steady, laying them on the faucets. "Thank you, Tory." She responded, voice sounding completely normal.

_Breathe._ She stated to herself as she tried to turn the water on. After two trials, Laura succeeded on the third one. She ran her hands under the water, and then splashed some on her face.

She took another deep breath and looked at herself in the mirror. _Pull it together, Laura._ She focused on her eyes, stilling her mind. _Calm yourself_. She took another breath and another; the trembling dissipating from her arms, her legs, and finally her fingers. She could feel the icy world of the President begin to overtake Laura's tired and battered emotions, as she had a job to do.

The President straightened her shoulders, momentarily wishing she could lean back into Bill's strong arms to glean a few moments of unadulterated strength and confidence that radiated from him. She opened the hatch, stepping through, her guard instantly taking up position upon either side. _A definite drawback to your plan, Bill. Putting you and I in the forefront, making us greater targets for assassination than what we all ready were, _she thought as they rounded the corner.

Flashes from the camera bombarded her senses. Righting her shoulders, she stepped up to the podium. "I have an announcement to make." The press corps leaned forward anxiously awaiting her statement.

The President repeated her statement that she had given to the Quorum, altering the ending to include the recent developments.

"… The marine guard has boarded and detained 40 percent of those persons who are known collaborators. The ships that have not been boarded, have been quarantined off from the rest of the Fleet until it has been cleared of all known collaborators. Questions."

The room pounced as one unit. "Piya."

"How was the list compiled?"

Laura stifled the sigh, "Through members of the resistance living on New Caprica. Stuart."

"What are the criteria these people are being _labeled_ as a collaborator?"

Roslin steeled her hand, as she handed a lone piece of paper to Tory. "Please pass this to Stuart."

Tory quickly complied, handing Stuart the paper. "Stuart, would you care to read the Resistance definition of what constitutes a collaborator?"

The cameras all turned to Stuart, catching his expressions on film and his unsteady voice on the air. "I…uh.." He looked up at Roslin, and then at the piece of paper and up at Roslin again. "People actually did this?" He asked aghast.

The President remained stoic, merely nodding. Several seconds dragged on, Roslin finally pulled Stuart out of his reverie. "If you'll read the first five on the list, please."

Stuart's jaw clenched, his knuckles were white as he began down the list. "The first three are:

Rape or assist in the rape of any colonist.

Murder a colonist in cold blood.

Forcing a woman or man to grant sexual favors for food, clothing, medicine or better housing."

Stuart took an unsettling breath, "The list has 10 additional items, including torture without cause or provocation, forcing children to give oral sex…"

Mark piped in, "They deserve more than…"

Roslin raised her voice, re-focusing the attention. "Gentlemen and ladies. The names on that list are there for cause, however, we are not their judge and jury. They will have to live with their actions while on New Caprica, just as each of us have to."

"Are we going to leave them behind? Let them fend for themselves?" Stan asked.

_Gods, do I hate the Press, _Laura thought.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxox

Two hours later…

Dickins sealed the hatch behind the President. "Thank you." She said, momentarily leaning against the bulkhead. _Two hours, what in the heavens was I thinking?_ She turned to Tory, "How far behind are we?"

Tory began shuffling through her stack, "Incredibly, Madame President." She handed Roslin a stack of comm. traffic.

Roslin flipped through the first ten messages, it seemed every ship had contacted her regarding the 'collection of the collaborators' for one reason or another. "Tory," She handed the messages back. "Please sort these, I will only be calling back problems not related to our collaboration mess."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"What's next?" She asked, as they began heading down Galactica's corridor.

Tory's voice drifted to the background, as Laura took in her whereabouts. Close to Saul's quarters. "We are all ready well behind, a few more minutes won't matter now will it?"

Everyone just looked at her. Tory was perplexed. "No, Ma'am. But we'd like…"

"Great, Dickins and Lu with me. Everyone else, I will see in fifteen minutes on the Raptor." And Roslin spun on her heel, heading toward Colonel Tigh's quarters.

She had never actually been in them before, and she didn't _really _want to be in them now; but it was the right thing to do. Especially after everything that has happened. Taking a deep breath, she knocked. There was no answer. She waited another minute and then knocked again. The result was the same, no answer.

Sighing, she resolved she would catch up with the Colonel either later this evening or in the morning and turned to leave, bumping into the man she had come to see. He caught her, holding her arm until she steadied her feet.

"Colonel." She stated righting herself.

"Madame President." He forced out, dropping his hand to his side.

"I…" She looked at Dickens and Lu, and then paused as they stepped back fifteen paces allowing for privacy. "Wanted to see how you are doing?"

His check flexed, eyes almost black. "Ellen…" His voice began to break, but he forced the words out. "Made the scene at the Quorum look mild."

Laura reached up and pulled her glasses off, noticing the cuts across his face and neck. "Cuts?"

"Ariel Ambrosia assault." He responded. "Thank the Gods she missed, these were from the ricochets off the walls."

Roslin dreaded asking the question, "Has she left the Galactica?"

Tigh shrugged an affirmative and then moved to step around her.

"Saul." She placed her hand on his arm.

He paused, his voice hard. "Madame President, I respect you. And I trust you. But that was my wife." His black eyes locked onto hers, "And I loved her. If you'll excuse me, I have a slight mess to clean up in my quarters."

_A/N: Hope you enjoyed; the expediency of the next update lies with you. There is just one more chapter and the epilogue left…so, please let me know if you are still enjoying ~ _


	29. Miracles

**Chapter 29 – Miracles**

**26 days after leaving New Caprica**

Adama stepped onto CIC, nodding to the marine guard as he passed.

"Attention on deck." The Colonel ordered catching sight of the Admiral.

"As you were." He stated, drawing up next to his XO.

Tigh raised an eyebrow, waiting for Bill to state how his trip to medical went. He knew the 'old man' was pushing himself too hard, and he hoped Cottle hadn't fully cleared him. Not that it matter in the slightest, Bill Adama would do what Bill Adama wanted to - Doctors be damned. But...that didn't mean he didn't care about his friend.

And his friend's health had been quite precarious these past few weeks. Not that Bill had slowed down. The day Galactica had re-united with the Fleet, Bill had been back in CIC as the Admiral in charge. The 'old man' was operating on willpower alone and despite his slow movements and shallow breaths, the statement was obvious - Adama was back. There would be no more questions, no more speculation regarding their mission, the Cylon collaborators, and he held a press conference that afternoon with the President to clarify and answer the Fleet's questions…

_"Are you sure you want to do this?" Saul asked, hand pausing on the hatch to the Ward Room._

_ The Admiral raised very tired eyes to look at his friend, "Want to…" He shook his head, "No. Have to, yes."_

_ Nodding, Saul turned the hatch, pulling the door open for the Admiral. "Better you than me." He mumbled as Bill walked past him._

_ The Admiral's eyes darted back to Tigh for a moment, causing Tigh to snap his mouth shut and follow his superior officer to the podium. Bill gave a courtesy nod to President Roslin as he stepped next to her._

_ Placing her hand on the microphone, she smiled at him, "Thank you for coming Admiral."_

_ "Was looking forward to this all day." He responded, his smile not reaching his eyes. _

_ The President nodded to the Colonel, mouthing a 'Thank you' to him as Tigh took position behind the Admiral - flanking him. _

_ And then Roslin removed her hand from the microphone, addressing the overzealous reports. "Thank you for coming here this afternoon. As I stated in my morning Press Briefing, the Admiral and I would answer the Fleet's questions regarding the details of the Galactica and Astral Queen's mission. Stan."_

_ "First, I would like to say on behalf of the Fleet, it is good to see you about Admiral."_

_ "Thank you." Adama stated._

_ "But, Admiral, everyone in the Fleet is curious as to why you developed the battle plan in the first place?"_

_ Tigh watched the Admiral momentarily stand slightly straighter before responding, "Prior to the exodus of New Caprica, I received reports from the Resistance Leaders regarding the Occupation. One of the factors that hampered the Resistance was those persons who were Cylon collaborators or perhaps Cylons themselves, as we only have knowledge of seven Cylon models. Having persons within the Fleet who ultimately seek to destroy us," He paused, taking a deep and semi-labored breath. "Is never a good beginning, Stan. However, we had to be sure who was a Cylon collaborator by choice or through coercion as the survival of the human race is paramount, but not at the expense of killing those persons who had no choice but to collaborate with the Cylons."_

_ "Piya." Roslin stated._

_ "How can you be sure the persons killed at Astral Body M-8 were collaborators and those who have returned to the Fleet are not?"_

_ Tigh watched the 'Old Man' out of the corner of his eye, and he could tell from the Admiral's posture - the old man was not doing well. Not well at all. His breathing was shallow, fingers white knuckled on the edge of the table…_

_ Adama's voice was steady and firm, his answer to Piya's question leaving no room for doubt. "An integral part of the plan that has only been known to a handful of persons is that I placed fifteen, loyal officers from the Galactica and Pegasus crews on board the Astral Queen masquerading as collaborators."_

_ The reporters trounced on the information, and questions came from every direction. Roslin waited for a minute before touching the microphone with her hand a few times, bring a semblance of sanity to the room. "Those persons chosen were trusted members of the Resistance."_

_ "How can you be sure?" George asked._

_ "The events following the Fleets' temporary separation assisted in solidifying those persons aboard the Astral Queen who were collaborators with the Cylons." Adama stated._

_ "Madame President, would you care to elaborate on the Admiral's roundabout answer?" The room waited as the President placed her hands on either side of the podium._

_ "Once the Galactica and the Astral Queen arrived at its coordinates at the edge of Astral Body M8, the …." Roslin began to recount the details from two days ago..._

* * *

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* * *

…she had just stepped onto Galactica's CIC, and it exemplified a whirlwind of chaos. Tigh was speaking on the line with Lee, and the countdown had just reached the two-minute mark, the final stages of the Admiral's plan were about to be carried out. Roslin could feel her anxiety mounting as the clock etched closer to 90 seconds, Tigh hung up the phone.

"Mr. Gaeta, start the clock for our jump to Astral Body M8." Tigh stated, and turned to Roslin. "Are we certain this will work?"

Roslin stepped closer to Tigh, fingers dancing across the dradis counsel. "Certainty is not a luxury that we have, Colonel."

He nodded, "I guess that will have to do." Tigh turned to Gaeta, patch me through to Pegasus Actual."

"Aye, Sir." Gaeta stated, and then began to speak on the comm. line. "Sir. Commander Adama is on the line. Thirty seconds till jump."

Tigh yanked the receiver off the hook, swallowing hard. "The President has confirmed. See you on the other side."

"Safe travels. See you in under 36." Adama responded, and the line went dead. Lee hung up the receiver.

"9…8…7…" Bailey continued counting as Adama hoped his father's plan worked. Otherwise, the Galactica would not be joining the rest of the Fleet and he would lose everyone in the universe whom he held dear in a heartbeat. He felt the familiar pull of the FTL drive as the Pegasus lurched forward to its new set of coordinates, leaving behind the Galactica and the Astral Queen but not his worries.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxooxoxo

Roslin watched as the dradis blinked clear, save for the Astral Queen and the Galactica. And then the Astral Queen blinked off the dradis… "Three…two…one." And the world dissolved around Roslin and snapped back into focus. She blinked at the Dradis, nothing.

"Sir, we have zero contacts." Gaeta stated.

Tigh's eyes squinted, taking the information in stride. "The Astral Queen?"

Helo raised his eyes as he rounded the Dradis. "No evidence."

Roslin felt a surge of concern mix with the adrenaline as she kept her eyes glued to the screen. _So far, so good._

The Admiral's plan was simple, let the word leak that the Galactica was going to be jumping to a designated coordinates near Astral Body M8 and that these coordinates held the next clue to Earth's whereabouts, while the rest of the Fleet waited at a safe designated location on the other side of the Astral Body. The President and all of the members of the Quorum wished to be on board the Galactica to witness this _historic_ event. The Galactica's coordinates were secretly given to members of the Resistance who they sent aboard the Astral Queen to disseminate the information to the passengers. If there were collaborators aboard, they would follow the Galactica to its final destination and bring their _friends_ - leading the Cylon Baseships away from the Fleet and the true coordinates. The Astral Queen was given two additional jumps before arriving at their final destination, giving Galactica time to ready for any encounters with the Cylons.

The secondary reason for the length of time prior to the Astral Queen's arrival was to give the old Resistance members time to discover who among the potential collaborators were in contact the Cylon Fleet. Once discovered, those persons were to be captured if possible, but stopped with lethal force if necessary.

Unbeknownst to anyone else, the Pegasus and the rest of the Fleet were jumping to Astral Body M8 and set to retrieve the necessary information for their continued journey. Also, an entire squadron of vipers was serendipitously taken from the Pegasus and placed into Galactica's hanger deck. Conveniently, the pilots from those vipers were on training exercises on board the Galactica when the jump occurred.

The Galactica becoming an enticing target for the Cylons to destroy – a potential to eliminate the remnants of the Colonial Government, a Battlestar, the President and the Admiral in one fell swoop. The Admiral had set up a high stakes game of misdirection. The President believed in the Admiral and Captain Thrace, but as her eyes danced around CIC a silent prayer fluttered through her mind. _Hoping their plan would work -_ _if not…she wouldn't have to worry about the rest of the Fleet's problems. They'd be someone else's worry._

"Begin calibrating the star fix." Tigh ordered.

"Aye, Sir." Helo turned and began giving orders to the necessary personnel.

"How long?" Roslin asked, silently wondering if the Cylons would show up shortly after the Astral Queen.

Tigh shrugged, and his response to her question died in his throat as Gaeta's voice sounded over CIC. "We have contact." Gaeta began punching information, "It's a Cylon Basestar."

"Launch the alert fighters." Helo ordered.

"Second contact…" Gaeta turned to Tigh, "Sir, it's the Astral Queen."

All eyes looked at the Dradis to see the location of the Astral Queen in comparison to the Basestar and the Galactica. The Astral Queen was behind the Galactica's port side.

"That confirms it, someone on board is in contact with the Cylons." Tigh stated as the Vipers inched toward the Cylon raiders.

"How long can we go head to head against the Basestar?" Roslin asked, wondering why she had not thought to ask this question earlier.

"Begin suppression fire." Tigh ordered, and then quietly added, "Against one, we can manage. Two…" He shook, focusing on the screen before him.

* * *

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* * *

_"….the Galactica engaged the Cylon Basestar, placing itself between the Basestar and the Astral Queen, while waiting for a communiqué from the Astral Queen. Three minutes into the engagement, a second and third Battlestar jumped…" Roslin continued on…_

"Sir..." Gaeta's voice raised another notch. "That is contact number three. I repeat a third Basestar."

Tigh's eyes snapped to the dradis screen to find the location of the third basestar. "Launch the remaining Vipers."

"Sir…" Helo began to question Tigh's order, but the words died away from the intensity of the Colonel's gaze. "Launch…" Helo's voice echoed throughout Galactica, launching the remaining Vipers.

* * *

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

* * *

Starbuck flipped her viper around, "Adama?" Her finger squeezing off another burst at a raider. _How…why…He's awake? _

"Starbuck, did you copy?" Tigh's voice was urgent, snapping Thrace out of her wondering mind.

"Aye, Sir. Copy that. CAG to all pilots, there are four Basestars - repeat four. Squadrons alpha and gamma port side; delta clean-up on the aft; sigma with me and up the gut of Base #1."

"We're with you." Hotdog stated as thirty other pilots formed along Starbuck's wing.

"Stay with your wingman and let's punch Galactica a hole and take this Frakker down." Starbuck stated as the squadron engaged a throng of Raiders, bullets flying past her viper in a starburst of color. Quickly and with deadly efficiently, Starbuck and Hotdog began clearing their designated section as did each pilot and wingman. They were not straying outside of pre-positioned strategy. The Admiral had wanted _every_ one of his pilots's to come back from this suicidal mission, so did Kara - and during the mission prep she walked through each painstaking detail with them. The space around the Galactica had been sectioned off – every pilot had a specific area to clear of raiders pending on the quadrant around Galactica they were assigned at the time and causalities.

"Galactica, this is Starbuck." Kara dropped her nose on the viper, avoiding the raider debris from clipping her. "Sigma has #1."

"Copy that. Good hunting." Helo responded. And Sigma squadron sped toward the glowing Basestar, guns open, blazing a wasteland into the all ready dying ship.

* * *

Xoxoxoxxoxoxoxooxxo

* * *

_"The call came in from the Astral Queen after the destruction of the second Basestar. Later we were informed of the events from the Astral Queen, there were eight persons intimately in contact with the Cylons - none of whom are known Cylon agents. All eight were killed; three additional civilians who were trying to assist the military, and four members of the military were also killed. Eighteen persons were critically wounded. The Astral Queen jumped to a new set of coordinates, the Galactica following suit."_

_ "How many jumps did the Galactica and Astral Queen take prior to rendezvous with the Fleet?"_

_ "Two." Adama replied._

_ "Admiral, prior to our separation with Galactica, you were in sickbay in a coma. According to the President's statement, you were present at the end of the counter and played in integral part in the Galactica being here today, when and how did you come to?"_

_ Adama's face remained impassive, but the small intake of breath from the woman next to him did not go unnoticed by him. His voice remained level as he responded, "The credit regarding Galactica's survival is a testament to the crew. As for my awakening, Dr. Cottle had induced a medical coma to enable my body to heal after the shooting, however, during the Cylon encounter…"_

Adama blinked repeatedly, trying to fathom why he was laying on the deck, it was shaking and where 'here' was. He tried to push himself up, only to find his arm wrapped in IV cords and then the deck plating shook again. _Sickbay…and the Galactica is under attack_, his sluggish brain stated. Years of military training kicked in, as his hands groped for his glasses. _Lords, don't be broke, _he thought as the bedding slid further down the chamber. Fingers finding the familiar frame, he easily slipped them on - the world snapping into focus.

Sickbay was a disaster; beds upturned, linens in clumps and hanging off of anything and everything. Carefully, he turned his attention to himself and pulled the IV's from his arm.

As he removed the last one, Cottle burst into the room. Blood running down the side of his face, "You all right?" He knelt next to the Admiral, examining his side.

"Better than you." Adama crooked out. "…t happened?"

"Last count, 3 basestars." Cottle stated and the deck shook again. "You're lucky, the stitches held."

Concern swept over the Admiral's face, the growing pain along his side pushed to the edge of his subconscious. "Help me to CIC."

Every retort died in Jack Cottle's throat as his eyes locked onto the Admiral's. The Admiral needed to get to CIC, and he needed to get there **now** if they were going to make it out of here alive. Jack nodded, and supported Adama as he stood. In a heartbeat, Cottle was on Adama's right side, Adama's right arm draped around Cottle's neck, Cottle's left arm around his back – supporting him as they walked. Cottle paused at the door, grabbing a robe for the Admiral, who despite the growing discomfort in his side donned it in a heartbeat, and they were on their way to CIC.

"Repair crews to the forward launch bay." Helo's voice echoed off the halls as they reverberated from another hit.

Bill felt another bead of sweat fall from his brow, and his lungs were on fire as he gasped for another breath. _Only six corridors, _he thought as they quickly rounded the corner.

"I've got to quit." Cottle mumbled into the next corridor, almost equally out of breath from the exertion.

Cottle pulled to a halt two corridors away from CIC, pulling a syringe from his jacket, and in one swift move the cap was dancing along the hallway and Cottle was all ready injecting its contents into the Admiral. He yanked the needle out, and for the first time in his life, threw it on the deck plates and they were off. Cottle's gruff voice just loud enough to be heard over the commotion of the battle, "A stimulant. With all the drugs in your system, it will last about an hour before you crash."

Adama didn't respond, he processed the information and within a dozen steps he felt the fog begin to clear from his head. They rounded the corner and he felt his heart jump into his throat as his eyes landed on the chaos of CIC.

Sweat was dripping off both their brows as they entered CIC. The marine guard snapping to attention, but no one noticed the Admiral's sudden appearance until he was standing in the center of the storm. Tigh turned around and was stunned for a moment as he thought, _the Galactica had been destroyed, because,_ _how else would Bill be in CIC?_ Then the deck shook again, _nope not dead. Yet._

* * *

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* * *

Roslin looked at the dradis, _four basestars. Lords of Kobal…four. _And in that instant she knew they would not be rejoining the Fleet. _The brave men and women of the Galactica would die here. As would she and the remaining members of the Quorum. It was plain and simple, they were outgunned and despite Tigh's bravery - outclassed. _

Then an eerie silence reigned over CIC, and Roslin turned preparing for the worst…and she felt all the air leave her lungs. _Bill._ He stood in the center of CIC larger than life, and Laura could feel hope shoot through every member of the Command-in-Control as if it was an electric current.

Without conscious thought, she stepped closer - wanting, needing to be next to him. In the next heartbeat, she noticed his attire, his bare feet, his labored breathing, the sweat running down the side of his face and then her eyes landed on Jack. He had a mix of blood and sweat dripping off his chin, as he released the Admiral. Adama's eyes flickered to Roslin and then to the dradis. She could almost see his mind absorbing the information as if it were a sponge suddenly immersed in water.

"Colonel," His voice was weak, but the message clear. "10 seconds."

Tigh dove in, "No contact from AQ, first," He pointed at the Basestar they encountered first, "- damaged 65%, second – 15%, third, fourth. 15 through 30 are locked down. 4 squadrons – sigma." Roslin watched as Tigh indicated each the location of each squadron, "delta, alpha, gamma."

"Mr. Agathon, turn on our port axis. Colonel, I want Sigma to punch a hole through the raiders, have alpha and gamma keep port side free of raiders and re-position port guns to fire with our forward guns. Delta running clean-up along the bow and belly." Adama drew his eyes level with the President as he finished talking to Tigh, he could hear him barking orders across the channel and Starbuck's reply, but for an instant he starred into her eyes - blatantly ignoring the chatter and cacophony of the CIC. And then Adama was barking orders, _he had to save the them… to save her._

* * *

_Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxox_

* * *

"…_I was jostled awake. Doctor Cottle assisted me to CIC."_

"_Madame President, how did the crew of the Galactica react when the Admiral appeared on CIC?"_

_The President's face remained placid, unchanged at the question. Laura…on the other hand, wanted to break into a smile at the memory. "I believe an appropriate phrase would be, hope had returned." She responded._

…

"Sir, the Astral Queen is away." Gaeta stated.

Adama's eye moved to Tigh, "Bring our pilots home."

"Return to base." Tigh stated into the receiver as Adama turned to Helo, "Prepare to jump."

"Spooling up the FTL." And as each area confirmed readiness, a buzz began to vibrate through the room. _They were going to get out of this, alive._

"Nav computer….go."

"Con...go."

"Pilots accounted for…"

"Landing bays secured…"

"Jump." Adama ordered and the all too familiar pull of the FTL jump filled each person for a moment and then Gaeta was reading the dradis.

"Sir," Relief and jubilation filling his voice as he turned in his chair, smiling as he looked at the Admiral, "One contact, the Astral Queen, present and accounted for."

Cheers erupted through the CIC and Roslin went to congratulate Adama when she noticed how ghostly white he was. His blue eyes were loosing focus, "Oh…gods…" She muttered, "Colonel!" She yelled over the cheers and he turned in time to steady his friend.

"Need to sit." Bill muttered and the cheers of CIC died away as they watched their beloved Admiral be helped to the floor. Cottle, Roslin and Tigh squatting next to him.

Cottle barked to Helo about sickbay immediately sending up a gurney before checking the Admiral's pulse. It was strong, just slowing down. Cottle noticed the sweat running down the side of his face, and Adama's labored breathing. "Guess I was wrong on the hour part."

Adama shook his head, "You think?"

"Hour? Doctor…" The President drew their attention to her.

Cottle placed a cigarette in his mouth. _After all, it had been a close call,_ he rationalized. _Can't quit today. It would ruin the victory._ "He was jolted out of his bed, jarring him awake. He insisted on coming here. Between his adrenaline and the stimulant he received prior to entering CIC, I guessed about an hour until he'd slip out of consciousness again."

Tigh's face broke into a widespread grin at his friend's stubbornness, but his eyes were shadowed with worry - because, Bill did **not** look good. "Thought I was dead when I turned around and saw you standing in the middle of CIC." Tigh stated, laughing.

Adama chuckled. "Maybe next time, but you still owe me a drink. Can't die without paying up…"

Laura pushed past the worry at seeing Bill this weak, she gently grasped his hand. "Didn't trust Saul and I?" She asked, squeezing his hand.

A smile twitched the corner of his mouth as his gaze fell on her, "Your guys fault I'm awake."

Tigh raised an eyebrow, "Oh.."

He took a few quick breaths, "If you hadn't let them hit my ship so many times, I'd be dreaming." He squeezed Laura's hand once, he didn't have the energy for another. Not that dreams could compare to the living, breathing Laura Roslin - but…at the moment fantasies were far better than the pounding on the right side of his chest.

"Next time I'll put in for an order of only one Cylon Baseship, not four." Tigh muttered.

"Make a hole." A med tech yelled, gurney in tow.

Adama chuckled, "My ride's here."

"Damn straight. I'm too old to carry you back to sickbay." Cottle muttered, cigarette perched on the edge of his mouth. "Now get on the gurney, I don't want to jostle you anymore. Damn lucky those stitches haven't broken all ready."

Adama nodded his head, "I feel better all ready…" He tightened his jaw, willing the world back into focus for one more minute, but as he turned his head to say more he felt a wave of pain and sudden overwhelming fatigue wash over him. His head fell back, "Sor…ry."

"Doc?" Tigh asked on the verge of a panic attack.

Cottle motioned to the med techs, the Admiral and then the gurney. "He's fine, just the adrenaline and stimulant are no longer enough to keep him awake. Excuse me, I have multiple incoming." He turned and was half way out of CIC before motioning to the President as an afterthought.

She stepped around the gurney toward the Doctor. Eyes questioning.

"Madame President, a moment please." She nodded and they walked out of CIC, into the hallway. His voice dropped in volume, "I will have the Admiral taken to his room, as I will need the space in sickbay. I, however, do not have the staff at this point to watch him. Do you?" And with that, Cottle was sprint-walking back to sickbay, knowing full well the grin that was spreading across her face.

* * *

Xoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxooxox

* * *

"_And your current physical well being?" Stan asked._

_Adama reached up and adjusted his glasses as he answered, "I am still on restricted duty."_

"_Madame President, does that mean the Commander will be overseeing the daily operations of the military?"_

_Roslin cocked her head to one side, eyebrow arched. "The Admiral will be overseeing crucial matters with a daily briefing by the Commander and myself."_

Adama glanced at Tigh, _did Cottle release me? Yes…and no, _he thought, inwardly smiling at the yes and shrugging at the no. "Still at a restriction of 6 hours per day." He grumbled outwardly.

Tigh smiled despite himself, relieved. "Did he give you an E.T.A.?" He asked as a second thought, hoping it wasn't just postponed for just a day or two.

"Mild work out regiment for the next week, and he will reassess then." Adama replied thumbing through the reports, making it appear his mind was on work when in fact it kept returning to a certain red headed woman he hoped to convince to come over to Galactica this evening.

"You, light work-out?" Tigh made a dis-believing look.

Adama shrugged, his mind quickly playing out a _light_ work-out he'd like to partake in later that evening. "It's that or no work-out until cleared."

"Hmmmm, like you listen to Doctor's orders?" Tigh muttered.

_When there's a beautiful incentive, and the woman you love…anything is possible._ His face cracked a small smile, "Yeah, well you know what they say." Adama waited until Tigh glanced up, his eyes sparkling. "There is a first time for everything."

Tigh laughed, "My point exactly."

Adama shook his head, grabbing the stack of reports. "I'll be in my quarters if you need anything."

Tigh nodded, "Yes, Sir."

"And if Ellen still isn't irate at me, I am having a small get together tomorrow evening. I'd like you both to come."

A slow, smile spread across Saul's face. It had taken several weeks for Ellen and he to patch up their relationship, but he did love her and she in her own, she way loved him. Only the lords knew why, but…then again, what could he say? He loved Laura.

As for his and Ellen's friendship, he pretty much nuked it when her name appeared on the collaborator list. But, Adama's belief in her went up a small measure last week, when she confessed to Saul that she had given the Cylons something for his release. Saul wouldn't elaborate what the _something_ was, but Bill had a fairly good idea.

Shaking the image from his mind, he turned the corner to his quarters, thoughts drifting to the myriad of events that transpired these past two weeks. The hardest for him to accept was the death of Dee. When Laura told him she was shot and killed instantly, he had been speechless for well over a minute.

_Laura._ His thoughts turned to her as they so often did when he had a moment to spare. Not that they had seen much of each other since they re-joined the Fleet. Quite the opposite, they saw each other at Quorum meetings, military briefings, and an occasional meal. Their schedules were polar opposite, and often times they would call each other on the wireless, recounting their day or last night he read a handful of poems to her because she had wanted to hear his voice, and they would stay on until one or both fell asleep.

* * *

Xoxoxoxoxoxooxxooxoxx

* * *

Hesitantly, Laura placed her trembling hand on Bill's hatch, _Get a grip._ She told herself, _it's not as though anything has changed…except perhaps the one thing they've __**wanted**__ to change for the past 3 weeks. _Taking a deep breath, she willed her hand to stop its trembling and for her heart to still…_at least wait until I see him to fall to pieces, _she thought.

And with that, she pulled the hatch open, bathing the deck in the warm, inviting light of his quarters. He was sitting on the couch, dressed in civilian clothes - black dress pants and a ribbed black shirt, reading a book. He glanced up, over the edge his book and felt his face break into a smile.

Laura pulled the hatch close behind her, and felt his arms around her back, pulling her close. "Hello." He whispered against her hair, and then she felt his arms spin the hatch a final time, the lock mechanism clicking into place.

She leaned her head against his shoulders, the weight of the past several days lifting off her neck. "Hi." She responded, leaning further into his chest.

"Hungry?" His voice rumbled.

Laura suddenly felt her throat go dry at the possible double meaning, quickly followed by the images her mind had been kicking up for the past 2 weeks. "Yes." Was her simple response.

She felt him pull away, and she turned into his cabin. He was all ready retreating to the table, kicking off her high-healed shoes, she followed him - relishing the view. She had only seen him a handful of times out of uniform, and each one of those he was wearing sweats and a grey t-shirt. Not that his sweats weren't enticing, this was … different…elegant. His shirt fell from his shoulders, enunciating his broad chest and well-muscled arms.

They both stopped in front of the table, Laura pausing for a moment at the candlelight dinner waiting for their arrival, with a bottle of wine in the middle to folded cloth napkins in the center of the plates. "Wine?"

The silhouette of a smile graced his face. "Yes, it's a bottle from the Kobze Winery."

She turned to him, surprised. "Near New Delphi?" He nodded, and before he could answer, she asked, "How did you find it?"

He motioned for her to sit, "I'm the Admiral of the Fleet." He pushed her chair in, "Anything's possible."

Her chuckle filled the small space, "Now you are letting the Talk Wireless go to your head."

His chuckle mirrored hers as he pulled a chair out. Before having an opportunity to sit down, the phone rang, and Laura's mirth went into a full blown attack from the pitiful expression on his face.

"Adama here." He stated after practically yanking the receiver off the phone, Roslin's laughter echoing of the walls. His walls… and despite the inconvenience….he turned to her and felt his heart lift. She was sitting here, with him - getting ready to have dinner and…he _drug_ his attention back to the voice on the other end of the receiver. Tigh continued rambling on about what the raptors had discovered on their scout mission, and albeit important, Adama was having difficulty focusing on his XO's update.

Finally, after several excruciating minutes, he was able to end the discussion, returning his full attention to his gorgeous dinner companion. Her fiery hair spilling across her delicate frame… "And?" She asked, slicing through his thoughts.

He took a few steps closer, "Digs and Bean have found us a planet we will be able to stock up on our supplies, it supports vegetative life." Adama watched Laura's face break into a smile, tears instantly glistening around the corners of her eyes as the weight of his words eased the Fleets problems exponentially.

"That's…" She shook her head smiling, and stood up, "wonderful. Are they sure?" Her question was hesitant, hoping it was not to good to be true.

He reached across the distance, fingers touching her cheek and then gently sliding her hair behind her ear. "Yes. It is confirmed." Bill stated, closing the remaining distance.

Laura's skin was still tingling from his hand and as he took another step closer, her mind was having a devil of time remaining focused. The President went to ask the Admiral about estimated time before the area was scouted, and they could begin re-supplying their ships …but Laura would have none of it. Her inhibitions and concerns were gone. The President was going to have to wait for a while to speak with the Admiral. And as she raised her eyes to meet his crystal blues one, Laura was certain it would be a _long_ while.

Tonight, it was just Laura and Bill.

She felt his fingers dance across her cheek…her lips as his blue eyes continued to stare into hers, holding so much emotion…that it was _almost too much_…but then his head was leaning towards hers. And she found herself meeting him halfway….

His mouth was testing, searching as his hands slid down her back and then slowly up her sides, coming to rest in her satin hair as she pulled him into a deeper kiss. Her fingers were dancing across his sides and up his back, nails gently pulling across his shoulders causing him to break their kiss and with pain staking slowness began to kiss his way along her jaw until reaching her long, graceful neck. "You are so beautiful." He murmured as his teeth gently tugged across her ear.

Feeling deprived for too long, Laura turned her head, capturing his lips with her own. A stray thought about their glasses shot through her mind as her fingers found the lining along the bottom of his shirt, "Bill…"

"Hmm..." He responded, fingers sliding across her stomach as her jacket fell open.

"Ohh…" Her thoughts wavered as his fingers continued to dance across her chest, her hand running up his chest.

"Yes?" He asked, as he began to nuzzle her neck.

"Our glasses." She moaned out as she began pulling up his shirt.

In one swift motion, he pulled apart just long enough to finish removing his shirt, and their glasses landing softly on the new floor decoration. "Better?"

She raised an eyebrow, eyes raking across his broad chest. "Much."

He cocked his head to the side, loving eyes staring at her. "Not quite yet."

Her jacket joined his shirt…on the floor…

…and then their hands were on each other.

* * *

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

* * *

_A/N: This update was for Lady Henrietta – thank you for all your wonderful reviews; it is massively appreciated. Hope you are enjoying; there is one more full chapter & then an epilogue. And if you'd like to read the full version of once Laura arrives in Bill's quarters; it can be found on the Adama/Roslin website – survival instinct. _


	30. Becoming One

**Chapter 30 ~ Becoming One**

**The night of the 26****th**** into the morning of the 27****th**** day after leaving New Caprica**

The persistent thrum of the phone ringing brought Adama awake, his muscles screaming in protest as he moved to snatch the phone, accidentally jarring his companion.

"Owe…" She mumbled, sleepily. _Why is he jostling around now anyway? _

"Sorry," He stated before picking up the phone. "Adama."

_Ah…the phone was ringing…well that explains that…_Roslin thought all ready adjusting her pillows to fall back asleep, until she heard Bill's voice say, "I'm on my way." And then she was awake in a heartbeat.

He hung up the phone, scrambling out of bed as he spoke, "An explosion just happened on the Pegasus."

"Gods, Bill. Lee?" She asked pulling the sheet up with her.

He shook his head, "They have no news." He replied heading into the main living space.

Laura glanced at the clock, 23:40. _Gods, they just fell asleep…_she thought as he stepped back into the room, his glasses on; hers dangling from one hand, a wad of clothes in the other. Despite the seriousness of the call, Laura couldn't help admire the man walking toward her. A smile fluttering across her face as he approached.

"Someone seems to have made a mess in the outer cabin." His voice filled with mirth.

"Yes, I do believe they left a wonderfully cooked meal untouched, and they went straight to desert."

"And if memory serves, it was quite delicious." He tossed the clothes in the corner, obviously dealing with them after the Pegasus problem.

"Yes, quite." She reached out for her glasses. "Thank you."

His eyes twinkled, "Enjoying the view?" He asked, handing her glasses to her.

Taking them she nodded, "Very much."

He dipped his head down, placing a kiss on her lips. "Me too." He stated and was pulling a uniform out of his closet within seconds.

Laura slipped her glasses on, "We're too old not to get any sleep." She said, momentarily stretching while standing up.

"Perhaps." He replied, turning to face her. Blue eyes drinking in the wonder before him, "But you are beautiful, none the less."

"And how does that factor into sleep?" She asked innocently, heading toward the head.

"With you in my presence?" He chuckled, pulling a pair of boxers on. "It's an integral part."

"I'll be two minutes," She threw a smile over her shoulder. "I need to rinse off." His eyebrow rose appreciatively as he jammed a leg into his pants and she pulled the door closed.

Adama was clasping his last snap when she re-emerged. Her hair was raised off her neck, a few stray tendrils lying on her face; moist from the shower. "I'm envious."

"I feel better. Less stiff." She replied, snatching an outfit from his closet she had, thankfully stored there.

He took a step closer to her, to kiss her but stopped dead in his tracks when her towel fell to the floor. His body leapt into overdrive, wanting to strip his uniform off damning the consequences. His mind however, painfully peeled the idea back.

Laura turned around, almost bumping into him. His eyes were smoldering with barely controlled passion, she almost leant into him as his eyes ignited her own passion.

Adama saw the change in her eyes, and he felt himself swallow the sand that now occupied his mouth. "I'll see you shortly." He placed a kiss on the side of her cheek, both knowing full well that any other location was beyond dangerous.

"Bill," She called out after him, his gait slowing at the door. "Be careful."

He nodded, "Always."

* * *

Xxoxoxo

* * *

Tigh was just about to call the Admiral again, when he arrived in CIC looking haggard. "Admiral on deck."

"At ease. Report." He stated, drawing himself up to the dradis consul.

"We registered an explosion along the Pegasus' port hanger deck, 4.43 minutes ago. Oxygen is still venting. And we have been unable to establish communications with her."

"Pegasus Actual?"

Tigh shook his head, "No, sir. All communications are down."

Adama scanned the dradis - clear. "No external contacts."

"Appears to have been an explosion from the interior that breached her, Sir." Tigh stated.

"Launch S&R teams."

Tigh's voice rang through Galactica, launching the S&R teams.

The Admiral let out the breath he was holding, placing his hands on the table to steady his frame. He was tired and sore, wanting nothing more than to wrap his redheaded angel in his arms and sleep. The thought passed in an instant as years of military training took command, staving off the satiated fatigue, sharpening his mental prowess. "All transports between the Fleet are immediately suspended until we know what we are dealing with. Get Kara up here. And get a line opened to the Pegasus." His eyes bored into his XO, the message clear. _Get it done, Now!_

"Aye, sir." Tigh was barking orders to the crew, and about to ask if Bill was going to contact the President and brief her, but she glided into CIC. "Thought she transported to Colonial One hours ago." He mumbled to Bill, eyes darting to the President.

"We had a meeting and a late dinner." The Admiral stated, catching Tigh completely off guard.

"Dinner?" He asked before he could stop himself.

Roslin drew up next to the gentlemen. "Yes, Colonel." Her attention switching to the Admiral, obviously not elaborating further. "Any news?"

He shook his head, as he pushed himself upright, "I'm suspending all transports until we know the cause." She heard imperceptible catch in his voice as he continued, "The Pegasus' breach has downed their communications, and they continue to have an oxygen breach."

Tigh watched the exchange between the Admiral and President out the corner of his eye, as the 'Old Man' explained the _nature_ of the problem to Roslin. _Dinner. When? _He thought, remembering back to his call to the 'Old Man' earlier this evening. _He hadn't said anything about dinner with the President. Then again…_he thought back to the conversation, _he hadn't said much at all. _He turned his attention to his long time friend, wondering if there was something more developing beneath the surface of the Fleet's leaders. _Perhaps 'dinner' was the wrong question, _he mused. _I should have asked about desert…_His thoughts quickly righting themselves upon hearing the President's sharp intake of breath.

Roslin could feel the color draining from her face as Adama finished explaining the relevance of the continued Oxygen breach. Her eyes darting to the clock. _Fifteen minutes...and then no oxygen would be left on the ship._

"Actual on line." Gaeta's panicked voice announced.

The Admiral snatched the phone, "Actual. Go."

The line was laden with static, "Dad?" Apollo's voice was shaking.

Adama's heart stopped, eyes misting over, "Yes. Status." The line crackled for several seconds without response. "Lee." The crackling dying off… "Lee! Son." He shouted into the phone, the line dead.

Frustration and worry filling his blood, _Lee._ Gritting his teeth, he pushed the thought of his son...the men and women of the Pegasus dying from oxygen deprivation from his mind, as he hung up the phone. CIC had stopped, all eyes on the Admiral. Aware of this, Adama addressed the crew, his voice deadly quiet. "I need a communications patch, or we are going to lose the crew of the Pegasus."

Laura starred at the man whose presence had suddenly filled the entire CIC. He was literally willing these people to find a _miracle_, because he refused to accept anything less.

He lifted his eyes, and the depth of emotion emanating from them as he locked on her smoky ones, caused her stomach to jump into her throat. _Worry, heartache…_

"Admiral." Starbuck busted into CIC, "The S&R have a relay."

Laura watched the emotions in Bill's eyes vanish as he turned to Gaeta. "Put it through." He yanked the phone, nodding to Tigh and Roslin to pick up receivers too.

The static greeting them was phenomenal, but they could hear strangled voices…commotion…and then Apollo's voice. "Repeat. The sealing doors in the port deck are destroyed. Team en-route. Oxygen at 50%. CIC and aft deck are only secured areas."

* * *

Xxoxxox

* * *

Lee pinched the bridge of his nose. He was tired, and the reports were just beginning to come in.

"Hey." A familiar voice bringing a smile to his face.

He turned to see Starbuck, "Hey back to you." His eyes asking the question as to why she was here.

The corner of her mouth twitched into a cocky grin, "The Admiral sent this," She held up a packet of paper.

The Commander arched is brow, "A carrier run?"

Laughing, Kara shook her head. "No, but as he ordered me over here to investigate the incident, he asked I bring this to you." She tossed the packet to him.

He slipped it open as she continued talking, "The 'old man' has shut all transports down until this is solved."

Lee shook his head, responding. "I'm sure the civilians are not going to take kindly to that." His eyes quickly scanning and processing the information.

"Roslin was having a press conference when I left on the Raptor to come over here?"

Lee paused his reading, "The President was still over on Galactica when the incident occurred?"

Kara shrugged, "Yeah. She and the 'Old Man' had a meeting and late dinner."

Lee nodded, as that was nothing unusual. "He's temporarily transferring half the deck gang to the Pegasus." He stated, glancing up.

"What was the estimated repair time?" She asked, fingers subconsciously twirling her ring.

"Eighteen days. With Galactica's help," Lee squinted his eyes, mirroring his father's mannerism, "Probably less than two weeks."

"Definitely better."

"Yeah. Kara," He paused, clearing his throat as he changed the subject. "How's dad _really_ doing?"

Kara's eyes darted to Lee's, "What do you mean?"

His jaw flexed, "I…" Taking a breath, he forced the rest out. "Haven't seen him these past two weeks except during our briefings. And, well…" His voice trailed off.

She stepped closer, placing a hand on his arm as she smiled reassuringly. "No one has spent a lot of time with him lately. He has been pushing himself since Astral Body M8. Every minute he's able, I think he spends in CIC. The Colonel has been chasing him out as often as possible, but…" Her eyes misting over as she finished, "Your father is stubborn. Thankfully Cottle has not released him to full duty yet. Besides, he's having us all over later for dinner tonight."

Lee nodded in agreement, "True. Hopefully I can catch a few hours sleep between now and then." He glanced at the clock, 0510.

She pulled her hand away, turning. "Yeah, me and probably everyone else who he's invited."

"Kara," His hand darted out, catching hers.

She stopped, her heart instantly racing as his fingers tightened around her fingers. She turned her head, hair shifting from her movements, face remaining neutral. "Yeah."

His blue eyes softening, melting into her brown ones. Slowly, never breaking eye contact he brought her knuckles to his lips. "Thank you."

Kara's heart skipped a beat, as his words were warm against the skin of her hand. A tender smile breaking across her face, lighting her eyes. The moment hung there and then, he released her hand…eyes fondly watching her walk out of his quarters, and maybe if he played his cards right…

…into his life.

* * *

xxoxxo

* * *

Roslin pulled her glasses off, rubbing her eyes. It had been a long night. The press conference was thankfully small, limiting the number of hostile people she had to physically contend with, but the smaller numbers hadn't made it any easier. To make matters more interesting, she would have to conduct her business indefinitely out of Galactica, _not that there weren't perks, _she mused, but not having her staff accessible except by phone was going to be problematic; especially her aide, Tory and her security chief Dickins. They always knew her schedule, appointments…overall handling the minutia; because she didn't have time. On good days she had been getting 5 to 6 hours of sleep, Laura shuddered at the thought of getting even less sleep on a regulars basis. She hadn't been lying to Bill earlier, _they were getting too old not to sleep…well she could do with a __**little**__ less sleep if that meant having him around. But to go without, was a whole separate matter._

Closing her eyes and grabbing the side of her shoulder-neck area with her left hand, she rotated her head back and forth, trying to ease the tension. She had finished the conference half an hour ago, but she had made the mistake to call Tory. One she wasn't intent on making again, at least not after her aide recited off her schedule for the day.

She donned her glasses, dropping her hand when she heard the hatch squeak. Her tired eyes squinting at the bright light, and then smiling at the man taking form.

"Admiral." She stated, formally.

He nodded, "Madame President." Coming to a halt next to her. Adama noticed her eyes darted to the door. "Closed." He answered.

Her shoulders sagged, "Good."

Bill's face softened, admiration in his voice. "One helluva press conference."

Sighing, she rotated her head again wishing the knots would dissipate. "I think I still have their teeth marks in my neck."

Bill's eyes momentarily knitted together, and then he moved behind her. For a second, he appeared to be looking for the marks causing a chuckle to escape, and then his hands began to gentle kneed her shoulder muscles. "No teeth marks, but did you have your muscles replaced with deck plating?"

Her fiery hair shook a 'no', "It's a combination of stress, lack of sleep…and," Her voice softened. "Some exercise."

"Hmmm." His chest rumbled behind her. "I believe I am suffering from the same affliction."

He could feel the laughter bubbling up as her muscles marginally released. "Really?" Her voice drawled through the merriment.

"Actually," He dropped his hands from her shoulders to her waist, pulling her into his chest. "I have been wondering all night if it had been a dream, but…" She felt his tender lips on her neck, "Then I would have to move." He finished, chuckling.

Turning in his arms to face him, she drew her hand down his cheek. Grey eyes turning into smoke as they stared into his…further discussion become irrelevant as a knock on the hatch forced the two to separate.

"Admiral," The marine entered, "You asked to be informed when Pegasus' communications had been re-established."

"Thank you." Adama glanced at Roslin and then at the Marine. "Marks."

"Sir." Face portraying his curiosity as to why the CO had not dismissed him.

"Until the President can return to Colonial One, I would like you, Anders and Derk to come off my detail and become her security detail unless she is with a member of the command staff."

"Aye Sir."

"And Marks, remember her discussions and whereabouts are classified." He paused, "Even to me."

"Yes, Sir." He glanced at the President, completely unsure as to how to proceed.

Roslin smiled at the young man. "Marks?"

"Ma'am." He nodded.

"Do you have civilian clothes?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"If you would be kind enough to tell Derk and Anders, I believe…" She glanced at Adama, he nodded. She had gotten it correct, "To wear civilian clothes while with me."

His face broke into a grin. "Yes, Ma'am."

"The Admiral and I are going to grab some breakfast and finish going over tonight's events and then I am going to sleep for a few hours."

"We will take up station outside of your quarters."

Both Roslin and Adama inwardly cringed, _so much for privacy._ They shared a glance, _It will be out eventually…_

Adama met Marks' eyes. "That will be unnecessary." He stated evenly, "One detail outside of my quarters will be ample."

They watched Marks' as he processed Adama's statement. Shock lining his face, his ears turning a slight shade of pink. "Aye, Sir." He croaked out.

Roslin stepped closer to Marks. Adama watched the woman he loved transform into the President before his eyes. Her voice quiet but firm, eyes boring into Marks. "Confidential, Mr. Marks."

The young marine's eyes darted from Roslin to Adama and back. He nodded, and then turned to the Admiral. "Permission to speak freely, sir."

Adama nodded.

"Congratulations, Sir, Ma'am." He stated, face breaking into a smile and then quickly becoming serious. "And Admiral." Marks took a deep breath. "Your detail would never betray your confidence." He turned to Roslin, "Nor yours, Ma'am."

"Thank you, Marks." Roslin stated and was back to business. "I will have Tory forward my schedule to you."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"See you shortly." She stated.

Marks turned to the Admiral, questioning. The Admiral answered, "That will be all."

Marks pulled himself into a salute, as Adama said. "Dismissed."

They watched Marks leave, pulling the hatch closed behind him. "How long until your whole crew knows?"

He cocked his head thoughtfully, "Depends on how long we can go in public without displaying affection."

Laura turned to him, slightly shocked "Marks?"

Bill shook his head, meeting her gaze. "Officer of discretion."

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, "Would 'officers of discretion' describe the persons in your detail?"

He picked up her folders, sliding them under his left arm while extending her his right one. "Absolutely. When selecting replacements, that is the prime requirement one has to meet."

Slipping her arm through his, they began walking toward the hatch, "And how often has the Admiral of the Galactica had a woman sleeping in his quarters?"

He spun the hatch open, eyes filled with innocence as he deadpanned, "Not nearly often enough, but I'm hoping to rectify the situation."

* * *

Xxoxxo

* * *

Breakfast had lasted longer than either had wanted it to. They were exhausted. He closed the hatch, sealing it. "Next time," He pulled his glasses off, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm going to order in."

Laura chuckled, kicking off her shoes. "Not until we clean up dinner from the night before."

He squinted at the table, "Ohhh. Yeah. The galley isn't going to be happy about that either." He muttered. He felt her hand entwine with his, pulling him to the rack.

"If we fall asleep right now, I can have almost 3 hours." She stated as he flipped the light on by the pillows.

"And we are having guests later…"

Her head fell back, "Ohhhh.. I forgot about that." She muttered into the air.

He pulled his tanks off, as she drew her head back and she silently wondered how in the hell he all ready had his uniform top off. But as his shirt lifted, his scar drew her eyes to his chest.

Bill felt her tender fingers on his chest, and as he tossed his tanks off he was starring into her beautiful face. Her eyes tracing his scar. "Gods Bill…" The words were soft, "You were so lucky." She stated, misty eyes meeting blue ones.

"I haven't been the only one who has been lucky." He rumbled back, his hand tracing her high cheekbones.

Their simple gestures quickly igniting a deeper need, overpowering their fatigue and one that neither could fight.

He removed her clothes in almost reverently, barely touching her skin and where he did brush felt as though fire was dancing across flames. It was tantalizing, leaving her breathless and wanting…

Whimpers and moans echoed off the walls as they fell from their lips…their souls were joining their bodies…melding together…into one.

* * *

Xxoxxo

* * *

_A/N: If you'd like to read the lemony version; it's posted on Survival Instinct. Cheers!_


	31. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Baltar scanned the results again. _Nothing._ "Bloody hell!" He yelled, flinging the papers across the room.

"Surely you missed _something_." Six calmly stated.

Gauis threw his hands up in the air, exasperation leeching into his voice. "I've ran the test three frakking times. And the results are ALL the same!"

Her voice tightened, "Calm down, Gauis. There is an explanation."

He ran his hands through his hair. "Do you think?" His head tilted to one side, brow raised, voice boarding on manic. "Perhaps Hera is Dead."

Six reached across the table, grabbing his hair and slamming his head into the wall. "That's blasphemous. She's alive."

Baltar's head was exploding in pain, but the facts poured out of his mouth. "Really. Then where is she?"

Six released his head, walking toward the door. "Probably right under our noses."

He peeled his cheek off the wall, rubbing his jaw. "And her blood test?"

She placed her hands on her hips, brows arched up, "You can't be serious." She sighed, taking a long breath in. "Think Gauis. What better way to have you wasted your time, than to remove the sample?"

Baltar stopped rubbing, eyes locking onto her. "You know…" He spun around, snatching another stack of papers and began to rifle through, inspiration coursing through his veins. "With this size of sample." He pulled the piece of paper out with the 25 names on it. "It would be easy to _mix_ up the samples."

"And how are you going to gather new ones?"

"Simple," He pushed his glasses back up. "I'll tell Roslin and Cottle that I've detected some abnormalities and would like to run the tests on new blood samples. I'll select different ages at random so as to not cause concern."

"Shrinking the original list."

"Exactly." He began scribbling some notes on the paper.

* * *

Laura let the water run over her, hoping to help her wake up and take the stiffness from her muscles. She was trying to move faster, but between last night, their breakfast running over…and perhaps the most potent lovemaking she'd ever experienced, mix that with a _very_ little amount of sleep…and she was moving slow.

The door to the head opened, Bill stepping inside. "Good morning." He rumbled, cracking the door open to the shower.

"Morning." She replied, dipping her head back into the water. She felt his body slide in, next to hers.

"You look absolutely beautiful this morning." He stated lovingly, water running down his broad chest, his abdomen...Laura drug her eyes back to his face, now was not the time…they didn't have time…but the mere thought caused her body to _want _her to make the time.

Placing her arms around his neck, "Thank you." She responded, before her voice turned momentarily serious. "Bill..."

"Hmmm." He responded, water running between them as his hand slid to her lower back, pulling her to him.

"This morning…" She didn't want to sound cliché, and its not that they had talked about it…

Bill pulled back, blue eyes searching her face. This morning had been…wonderful, magical…and yet those words did not even remotely describe it. He had been with more women than he could count when he was younger, married twice, and he had never experienced anything like it. "Me either." He said, tracing the curves of her before sliding down her back. Eyes riveted to hers, words barely audible. "Laura, I've never felt this way." He shook his head, "Never."

She pulled him closer, and he tightened his arms around her back. "Bill, I love you so much, it hurts." She whispered, tears mixing with the water.

* * *

Baltar turned the corner, but felt himself fly backwards into the bulkhead. "What the…" Six's hand covering his mouth.

"Shhhh." She said starring down the corridor he had been about to enter, her hand dropping to her side. Several moments passed, she stood unmoving; her face a picture of concentration.

"What?" Baltar hissed.

Six turned back to Gauis, as if snapping out of a spell. "Come on." She motioned for her to follow him. "Do you see anything different about our President?" She asked as Roslin came into view.

Baltar glanced at Six, dumbfounded. "Huh?"

She met his look, words coming out through gritted teeth, "This is serious Gauis."

They continued walking toward the President who was in an animated conversation with someone one the phone. Her hands were flying about, face set in the determined Presidential look Baltar had grown accustomed to seeing…

"No." He muttered to his companion.

Her lips inches from his ears, whispering. "Nothing's different about the woman?"

Gauis looked at the woman he was getting ready to pass in the corridor, she was completely oblivious to him. Her attention was focused on her conversation. Rarely did he gaze at Roslin as a woman and not at the President, and had it not been for Six, today would have been like every other day…and he would have missed the slight color in her cheeks, the added firmness of her breasts, the light in her eyes…Baltar had to admit that Roslin was a beautiful woman.

They rounded the corner, "Well?" She asked.

"She appears to have regained some of her _health_." He summarized his observations.

"That's because she's pregnant." Six continued on, as Baltar stammered to find words. "With Adama's child."

"What?!" Baltar spat out. "How…? You can't now that…" He said shaking his head.

"It's true." She cooed as they started down the corridor, "And you are going to have to kill their child, Gauis. It can't be allowed to live. Nor can their union survive." She ran a nail down his cheek, "Or we die."

* * *

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A/N: So very sorry for the long delays between updates, but this story has finally come to a close and potentially a new one will emerge picking up where this one ended. I know, you're thinking, how can it be left there...? The storyline has come to an end; Roslin & Adama are together and have carved out a 'Future' together; the rest...would be another 'chapter' in their life. Thank you for very much for those who have taken the time to review this story...it has been most appreciated!!  
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